Summer of Hurt Greg
by McGeeklover
Summary: Formerly known as '30 Days of Hurt Greg' A collection of stories pertaining to everything Hurt!Greg founded by prompts. Chapter 17: All of a sudden Nick heard a gunshot, a grunt and the phone crash to the ground. He was at the edge of his seat and his foot pressed harder on the gas. "Greg? Greg!" And then the worst thing of all. "N-Nick...help." Tag to S12E22 "Karma to Burn."
1. Reliving the Nightmare

**Reliving the Nightmare**

**Here is the 2****nd**** Edition of 'Hurt Days of…' This time is 30 Days of Hurt Greg. A bunch of stories based on Greg getting hurt- mentally, emotionally, physically. Hope you like it. I want lots of prompts! It can be soley Greg fics, Nick and Greg friendship/brotherly love or any other characters as long as it's hurt Greg! NO SLASH!**

**So this is set in the end of season 9. Enjoy!**

"My team totally beat yours last night Greg; I don't know why you won't make the switch."

"Because the Vikings suck!"

"Says the guy whose team lost the game last night. Admit it Greg, Vikings are awesome."

"Over my dead body."

Nick playfully pushed Greg as they walked to the crime scene on the Strip. It was almost two in the morning and Catherine had sent them to this robbery/murder at the drugstore. Though, it made him a little uneasy to be in a place that looked familiar to where the beatings happened. He wouldn't tell Catherine that and he _definitely_ wouldn't have told Nick; he was gonna prove himself a capable CSI that can take anything that was thrown his way. They just past another alley before they could see the police lights up ahead and they were ready for another long night. Suddenly, Greg stopped to kneel on the ground causing Nick's brow to furrow and stop.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you up there; I just need to tie my shoe."

Nick hesitated. He really didn't want to leave Greg alone in this shady area; especially since the beating happened nearly two months ago. And even if Greg was "fine," he knew he was not; he wanted to keep his little brother safe. He wanted Greg to go back to the lab so he'd be away from harm…well, the explosion kind of ruined that too. But don't get him wrong, Greg was the best CSI he's ever seen. He went from an annoying, crazy lab rat to a smart, hardworking CSI…and he was proud of him.

"Nick, I'll be fine; just go."

Sighing heavily, Nick turned around and _slowly_ started walking towards the crime scene. He wasn't gonna let Greg get hurt on his watch- _especially_ on his watch.

Greg sadly watched Nick start to go; the Texan meant well and he was flattered that the man wanted to stay by him and keep him safe. That's what brothers did for each other, but he was just tying his shoe, the crime scene was a few hundred feet away and Nick was right there. Nothing was going to-

He was suddenly grabbed from behind, a grimy hand clamped over his mouth to keep him from shouting. This couldn't be happening; this really couldn't be happening again. He squirmed and kicked, trying to get out of this person's hold but it was no use.

"Stop moving you little brat."

A fist immediately met his jaw and pain exploded behind his eyes; and again and again until he could barely feel his face anymore. He was punched in the stomach and chest, though it wasn't that bad since he had the vest on. Blood trickled out of his mouth and he closed his eyes, groaning in pain. Every single punch flashed him back to the Fannysmackin' beatings; being pushed up against the wall, kicked and punched in the face, being unable to catch his breath or defend himself. He was reliving his nightmare all over again.

"W-What do you w-want?"

"Give me your money!"

That's what this was about? Some dickhead wanted money? _Welcome to Las Vegas Greg._

"I don't-I don't have any," Greg coughed.

"Don't lie to me!"

The man suddenly pulled something out that glinted in the dim street light. A knife.

"No, no, please no." In all his flailing, he clocked the guy brutally in the cheek. The man growled, looking more killer-like than ever.

"I'm not gonna ask you again." And with that, the knife came down at a great speed and Greg knew this was it.

Meanwhile, Nick had a strange feeling in his stomach. A minute had gone by and Greg still hadn't caught up. He was nearly at the crime scene and he knew it didn't take one minute to tie one shoe.

"Greg, you almost done m-" but when he turned around, the road was empty. Greg was nowhere to be seen. The only thing he saw was the man's kit. "No. No, no, no, no." He dropped his case and started running back to where he left Greg. He never should've gone ahead. _Dammit Nick!_ "Greg!"

As he got closer he could hear muffled thumps- like a fist hitting flesh- and whimpers. Nick's heart jumped into his throat, praying it wasn't what he thought it was. Greg was still a bit sensitive to touch since that trauma filled night a few months ago and if he was getting beat up again, his mental state may change for the worse. Once he turned the corner to where he heard the sounds, he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. There was a dark shape sitting over his best friend, beating the crap out of him. And before he could shout, that person lifted up a silver object and brought it down on Greg.

"No! Greg!" He broke out into a run, intent on breaking every bone in this guy's body. "Get the fuck off him you bastard!"

The man looked up but then continued to stab Greg; and every time the knife came up, he could see blood running on the blade. And his heart broke every time he heard a weak whimper or a soft grunt. Before he knew it, he had tackled the guy and punched him in the temple, knocking him out cold. Once he roughly handcuffed him, Nick crawled over to Greg and he wanted to cry. This was his fault; he never should've left him.

"Greg?" His hands hovered over the broken body until he had the courage to grab the kid's hand. "G, can you hear me, bud?"

"Nngh, N-Nick?"

"I'm right here, buddy; just hang on…oh god."

The good thing was that Greg's attacker had been so stupid to think a knife would penetrate the vest deep enough, so Greg's chest had been protected…but his stomach…Blood soaked the bottom of the man's shirt as well as early forming bruises on his face. He almost looked like he had when they visited him at the hospital after the beatings. It wasn't as bad, but it was close to looking the same. He pulled out his phone and called 911 before calling Brass.

"Nicky, where did you run off to?"

"Jim, Greg's been attacked."

The man groaned. "Son of a bitch; how bad?"

"He's been stabbed."

"You call an ambulance?"

"Yeah, they said they'd be here in five minutes."

"Alright, I see the kit; I'll be there in a minute."

Nick hung up and picked Greg's upper body into his lap. "God, I'm so sorry Greggo. This is my fault."

Greg coughed violently. "N-No…not…fault." Greg's body shuddered and Nick tightened his grip on the man.

"Easy, G; it'll be okay, I promise."

Greg smiled weakly. "I know. T-trust you, Nicky."

Nick smiled back at his friend, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "What did that guy want?"

Greg inhaled shakily. "He just wanted money…N-Nick it hurts."

"I know, bud, I know. You're gonna be okay, kiddo." Nick clenched his jaw; Greg was fighting for his life all because the asshole who attacked him wanted money? When he was through with the guy, he was gonna wish he was never born. No one touched his brother…_no one._

"Nick…god, Sanders." Brass came up behind them and wiped his mouth. "How is he?"

"I'm still he-here you know. N-Not dead yet," Greg mumbled. The extents of the injuries were starting to take effect now.

"You won't die at all," Nick said harshly. "I'm not letting you."

"This the guy?" Brass pointed to the attacker who was finally coming to.

"Yeah."

Nodding curtly, Brass grabbed the man's bicep and roughly brought him to his feet. Brass read him his charges and rights as they walked back towards the scene and his cop car. Nick scowled; whatever was coming to Greg's attacker, it was too good for him. If he made the rules, it'd be death penalty…by his fists.

And just as the ambulance pulled up, Greg slackened in Nick's hold and his breathing slowed down. Nick began to panic, thinking that Greg was giving up; that he was dying.

"Greggo?" He shook the man slightly in hopes to wake him. "Come on, man don't do this to me." If Greg had passed out, the pain must've been really bad. Before he could say anything else, he was gently pushed away and Greg's limp body was removed from his arms. The paramedics shouted numbers and words that confused Nick, hoping that whatever was being said wasn't bad; and once they stopped the bleeding with pressure bandages, wrapped a brace around Greg's neck, they put him on a gurney and wheeled him into the back of the ambulance. Nick desperately wanted to go with his little brother, but they stopped him and said which hospital Greg was going to. There was a risk of Greg crashing and they needed as much room as possible. This just terrified Nick even more.

Almost immediately, the doors slammed in his face and the vehicle sped away, leaving Nick standing in shock. He looked down at his shaking hands and, only then, realized how much of Greg's blood had smeared on him. His stomach rolled and he heaved his dinner onto the tar. When he finished, his body was trembling and he felt a cold sweat coming on. He had failed to protect his little brother; he had let Greg get beat up _again._ Last time this happened, Grissom had sent Greg alone to a crime scene. He was proud that the kid had gotten that far into the job, but the gangs had been out and about and he was worried something bad might happen…and it did…and he wasn't there to protect his friend. After wiping his mouth, he stood up straight, grabbed his and Greg's kit and jogged back to the Denali. Greg had to get through this, he just had to.

~+CSI+~

Nick paced anxiously, wiping a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. He arrived at the hospital an hour ago and he still hadn't heard anything on Greg. It. Was. Killing. Him.

"Nicky!"

He turned around and saw Catherine, Sara, and Langston running towards him. Finally, he wasn't alone…he didn't think he could handle this by himself.

"Nick, what happened?" Catherine said, tears in her eyes. Nick hadn't said much on the phone except that Greg had been hurt at the crime scene and was at the hospital.

"Greg was attacked while we were going to the crime scene."

"Not again," Sara groaned. Greg really didn't need this happening to him again. It had traumatized him once; no telling what it will do to him now that he was beat up a second time.

"How bad?" Ray spoke up.

Nick shook his head and pressed his eyes. "He was stabbed a number of times in the stomach and his face w-was…" he couldn't speak any more about this.

"It'll be alright, Nick," Catherine whispered as she led the Texan to a chair.

"No, it's not alright, Catherine. I was supposed to be there and protect him. He's my little brother and I let him get hurt _again_. He was tying his shoe and I wanted to wait for him, but he told me to go to the crime scene. And me, being the idiot that I am, listened and now look what happened."

"Greg is not going to blame you, Nick," Sara said sitting beside him. "Knowing Greg, he'll probably blame himself."

Nick thought sadly; it was true. Greg was selfless and he'd take the blame if he felt it was his fault even though it wasn't. Before he could open his mouth, the double doors opened and a doctor in sea-green scrubs emerged.

"Family of Gregory Sanders?"

"That's us," Nick said quickly as he shot up from the chair. "How is he?"

"Why don't we go sit and I'll explain his condition to you."

Nick nodded jerkily and the group went to a corner to sit down. "Is he okay?"

"First off, my name is Doctor Lewis and I attended to Mr. Sanders. And I will tell you now that he's alive."

"Thank god," Catherine breathed, placing a hand on Nick's back. She knew this was hard for the man. Greg was his little brother and no one was allowed to hurt family.

"I'll start with the minor injuries; his face obtained a few extensive bruises, a broken nose, two black eyes and a busted lip. We fixed his nose and cleaned the wounds, but those are the least of his worries. His lower stomach was stabbed five times, perforating the peritoneum. This can be extremely dangerous if not treated right away; fortunately, we got him here and in surgery quick enough to prevent peritonitis or sepsis from spreading. We removed the infected tissue and closed up the wound. He does have a minor infection not caused by the peritoneum being hit, but we currently have him on antibiotics to fight it off. Now it'll be lengthy, but he'll make a full recovery. The internal stitches, however, will take at least a year to heal close and he might have a scar, but otherwise, Greg is going to be fine."

They all let out a sigh of relief. Greg was gonna be okay; they didn't know what they'd do if they lost another family member. Nick smiled, but he was kind of angry; now Greg was gonna have _another_ scar to remind him of the dangers of this job. First the scars from the explosion and now this. "Can we go see him?"

"Of course; he's resting right now and could be for the next 24-48 hours, but I'm sure some company will do him some good."

Once they reached the room, Nick nearly collapsed. To see Greg look the way he was- so still and pale…vulnerable. Different colored bruises littered the man's face and thick bandage wrapped around his midriff as well as a bandage on his nose. The two black eyes were vivid against the pallor and his breathing was labored and irregular even with the nasal cannula.

"Geez, Greg."

"Do you need some time alone, Nick?" Catherine asked. "We can just say a quick goodbye and see him tomorrow."

"Yeah…yeah okay." He was exhausted and as Catherine and Sara kissed Greg on the forehead, he sat down in the chair next to the younger man's head.

"You know he'll be okay, right Nick?" Ray said.

Nick remained silent.

"And he won't blame you, I guarantee it."

Nick looked up at the older man. "I hope you're right."

When they left, the room was quiet beside the constant beeps of the heart monitor and Greg's deep breathing. He leaned forward and grabbed the man's hand gently; he smiled in pride when he noticed Greg's knuckles were scarred and bruised. The kid had gotten in a punch or two. Nick brushed the sweaty strands of sandy hair from Greg's too warm forehead and sighed.

"Good job, G; I'm proud of you." He grasped the man's limp hand tighter and he leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. It was kind of hard to imagine only four hours ago they were arguing about which team was better.

"The Falcons still suck ass, Greggo and you'll never switch me….but maybe if you wake up you could convince me." _Just please wake up._ But Greg remained still. Saddened, Nick yawned and drifted off into a light sleep…and when he woke up, he just prayed Greg would be awake and okay.

~+CSI+~

Nick blinked his eyes open and cleared his throat before wiping the sleep off his face. Taking a deep breath he looked over at Greg and jerked into a straighter position with a smile on his face. Greg was awake- just barely- and staring at him with a weak grin on his pale face.

"Greg, you're awake!"

"Great, observation Sherlock," Greg chuckled.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You look like you needed the sleep."

"Are you saying that I look like crap?"

"Maybe…did you know you drool?"

The Texan frowned while wiping his mouth. "Do not." Nick _was_ going to punch the man playfully on the shoulder, but stopped himself knowing how extra, extra sensitive Greg would be. So he just settled for rolling his eyes; he then realized that he was still holding Greg's hand and he retracted it, a red tint creeping up on his cheeks. Greg looked down at his lap, feeling a bit embarrassed as well.

"So…how are you doing, bud?"

The blonde shrugged and looked away. He couldn't believe this happened to him again…and he _let _it happen, because he wanted to prove himself strong enough.

"Greg?"

Nick looked at the man suspiciously. Maybe he was angry at him for letting him get beat up. "Look man, I'm sorry."

Greg looked at Nick with confusion. "For what?"

"For letting you get hurt; I should've been there to protect you. If I would've stayed with you, it probably wouldn't have happened."

"I'm flattered, Nick, really. But you really shouldn't have to feel the need to protect me. I wanted to fend for myself…but I guess I'm too weak."

"Stop it, G, you are not weak. You're the strongest person I've met; you're my little brother and I'm you're big brother. I'll never stop having your back, just like I know you have mine."

Greg smiled. "Thanks Nick." He looked down at his hands- his shaking hands- and went quiet.

"What's the matter?"

Tears rolled down his face and Nick leaned forward in worry. He placed a hand on Greg's arm and the man flinched a little. _Oh, Greggo._ "Come on man, talk to me here."

"It's…it's stupid."

"No, it's not stupid; come on, I'm here for you buddy."

"I just can't believe it happened to me again; I must've done something wrong to deserve this-"

"No, you've done absolutely _nothing_ to deserve this, G." Nick grasped Greg's hand and squeezed it gently. "Everything that's happened to you- the explosion, the beatings, and now this- you are not to blame; I swear on my life."

"I'm really scared, Nick. What if…I don't think I'm cut out for this job- I'm not like you or Sara or Warrick; I'm inexperienced and weak. I don't even know why you bother in thinking I can do any good out in the field."

"Greg, I swear to god, shut up." Nick grasped Greg's shoulders lightly. "I can't believe you would say that about yourself; you are the best damn CSI I've seen in my entire life and I am _so_ proud of you. You've proved others wrong and I'm glad you took the jump to become a CSI. And I know you're scared; I'm scared, too. For both of us. But I will do everything that I can to keep this from happening again. _Everything._ I love you man; you're my brother and I _will_ help you get through this if it's the last thing I do."

Greg looked up at the Texan and gave him a watery smile. And without warning, Greg began to cry- the pain of all his traumas finally hitting him at full force. But he had Nick; he had a big brother. Nick's heart broke at the shuddering sobs from his best friend. Gently, he wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders and brought him to his chest.

"It'll be okay, G, I promise. You're strong; you'll get through this, I know you will." He rubbed circles on the kid's trembling back and offered words of comfort. "It'll be okay, man."

"I know," Greg sniffed. "I trust you, Nicky."

**FIN**

** Let the prompts begin!**


	2. I'm a Killer

**I'm a Killer**

**A second one of my stories- this is not a prompt from anyone. Just a story starter; so keep bringing in the prompts! This is my own little thought of what might've happened had we seen Nick, Sara, and Warrick go visit Greg. Enjoy!**

Nick was excited to see his little brother, though he wished it was under better circumstances. Greg never should've been beaten up; the kid didn't deserve it. When Warrick had announced he'd found Greg's hair, it made him sick and he wanted to kill the people who made his best friend suffer. He remembered the exact moment he got the news.

_Flashback:_

Nick was joking around with Warrick in the locker room, getting ready for their crime scene when Catherine appeared in the doorway. Her face was pale and tears were welled up in her eyes. Nick was chuckling, but when he turned around and saw the look on his surrogate mother's face, his smile fell, going into immediate fear and concern.

"Cath, what's wrong?"

Warrick turned around as well, the laughter dying from his face. Catherine swallowed and briefly looked down at the floor. This was gonna be hard news for both her boys…but especially Nick.

"I…I just got off the phone with Brass… Greg was-"

As soon as Nick heard 'Greg was,' he knew something bad had happened to his friend. He silently prayed that it wasn't 'Greg was shot' or worst of all 'Greg was killed.' _God Cath, please don't say that._

"…Greg was attacked."

Nick's blood ran cold and all the feeling in his legs drained, forcing him to collapse onto the bench. He felt lightheaded and sick; it wasn't as bad as his scenarios, but Greg had gotten hurt. That was something he never wanted to hear in his entire life.

"H-How?" He choked.

"Gris sent him to a crime scene and-"

"Alone?" Now he was pissed. It wasn't that he didn't think Greg was capable of pulling a solo, but it wasn't safe for _anyone_ right now. "There are people out there who are beating people to near death for kicks and he sent Greg without backup? Where the hell were the officers?!"

"He never reached the crime scene, Nicky. He drove by an alley where they were beating another man up."

"Dammit, G." Greg Sanders; the Good Samaritan. Always thinking of others before himself. "How is he?"

"Jim didn't say."

"Well, we have to go see him! Why are we just sitting here?!"

"Nicky, there's nothing we can do for him right now, he's at the hospital."

"So you just expect me to stay here and pace while my best friend could be dying for all we know?"

"No, I expect you to go process the scene and catch the bastards who did this to him."

Nick sighed shakily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. _Oh god Greggo; why did you have to do that? _His chest was tight, he couldn't breathe and he never would be able to until he knew his brother was ok. He prayed Greg wasn't…no, Greg was strong. The kid would fight through this.

"Fine… 'Rick, let's go."

_End Flashback_

He, Warrick and Sara walked down the hall to Greg's room with smiles on their faces. Sara was clutching a bag from Roberto's, knowing Greg would be sick of the hospital food. Nick couldn't wait to visit Greg, however he was scared of what he might see; this was the first time he'd see the kid in two days. When they reached the window of Greg's room, Nick's heart dropped to his feet. Greg looked terrible; a rainbow of bruises littered the young CSI's swollen face. His right eye was purple- no doubt swollen shut- and his nose was crooked. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head, but he could still see a spot of blood blossoming through the gauge. A cast encased his right arm and he couldn't see them, but he bet a million bucks there were a shit ton of bruises covering the rest of the man's body. Nick clenched his jaw, his heart beating hard against his chest. Seeing Greg like this made him wish he punched Pig a thousand times more…or maybe smashed his head through the windshield when they'd arrested him. He then realized his hands were in fists and he breathed through his nose as he released them. He couldn't think about violence right now; not in front of Greg.

"God, G."

Sara placed a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be okay; Greg's a fighter."

"I know." Greg was the strongest person he knew and he'd never doubt it.

Greg's bed was at a 45 degree angle and he was propped up against dozens of pillows. He was resting peacefully as they stepped in and his chest was rising and falling steadily with each scratchy breath he took. It literally tortured Nick to watch his friend go through this; it was so wrong. Greg's nose twitched a little which made Nick smile and want to leave the kid to rest…but he needed to see if he was okay.

"Greg?"

Immediately, the man's left eye blinked open, revealing a wide, dark brown eye. The corner of Greg's mouth flicked upwards as far as it could with his bruised face.

"Hey guys."

"Hey yourself, buddy," Warrick smirked. "How're you feeling?"

Greg attempted to shrug, but it was weak. "I've been better." He pushed himself up straighter against the pillows with a slight grimace no matter how hard he tried to conceal it. He was sore as hell, but he wasn't about to let his friends know that.

"We brought you some food," smiled Sara, glad Greg was able to see again.

The blonde forced a smile, but wasn't even close to hungry; he felt sick to his stomach. He just watched the guy he hit die…he killed a man- scratch that…a _kid._ What has he done? "Thanks Sara."

Nick watched Greg warily; something was up with the kid. He could always tell when Greg was bothered by something…call it a big brother's six sense. He looked sad…or guilty. Sighing, he decided to wait a bit to confront him. For the next fifteen minutes they all talked…well Sara, Warrick, and Nick talked, Greg just listened quietly and only reacted when he needed to.

"Greg, you haven't touched your burrito," Sara frowned. "You feeling alright?"

No, he wasn't 'feeling alright,' he was a _murderer_! "I guess I'm not that hungry…I think the hospital food made me lose my appetite." Greg added a lopsided grin for good measure, but Nick saw right through it. Warrick and Sara began to pick up on it too and they shared a concerned look with the Texan.

"Warrick and I are gonna go get some coffee; you guys want some?" Sara asked as she stood up.

"No, I'm good," Nick replied while Greg weakly shook his head.

The two CSI's sighed before leaving Nick and Greg alone in the room. It was awkwardly silent for a moment as Nick watched Greg play with his sheet.

"Ok man, fess up, what's going on with you?"

"It's nothing, Nick," Greg murmured, keeping his gaze down. "I'm fine."

"That's bull; you know I can tell when you're lying." Nick scooted the chair closer, willing Greg to lift his head and look him in the eye. "G, you know you can tell me anything."

Greg swallowed thickly, emotion building up in his throat. His hands began to shake and it was not missed by the Texan. Nick pursed his lips sadly before enveloping Greg's uninjured hand in both of his.

"Greggo please…don't keep this bottled up. Whatever it is, we can fix-"

"No Nick, we can't fix it!" Greg choked a small sob.

"What are you talking about?"

"I killed a _kid_, Nick, that's what I'm talking about! The guy that I hit…he's dead! God, what have I done? I'm a murderer."

So that's why Greg was all doom and gloom. Nick sighed sadly. "Greg, you don't believe that for a second, do you? You acted on self-defense."

Greg sniffed. "I highly doubt the jury will see it that way."

"Greg, when the jury hears what you did was to save a man from death- that you _sacrificed_ yourself- then they won't even care about the kid who beat people up for no reason."

"I care, Nick! I can't believe…" Greg's body began shuddering with heart-wracking sobs. "I'm a monster…like the guys we put away; Grissom's gonna fire me, I'll have nowhere to go, you guys are all gonna hate me, I'm never gonna be a good CSI, I'm a screw-up, I-"

"Greg! Greg! Greg! Stop! Just…stop, please." And without thinking, Nick gently pulled the trembling man into his arms.

"Man, you don't need to feel guilty. I'd have done the same thing; you were defending your life, it's not. Your. Fault."

"H-His mom isn't gonna s-see it that w-way," Greg spoke into Nick's shoulder.

"She probably won't but you can't let that get to you, G. You are strong; the strongest guy I know."

Greg's breathing hitched as another scary thought came to mind. "She came into my room earlier…"

Nick's eyes widened. "What?" Was Greg saying what he thought he was saying?

"S-She came in here an hour before you g-guys. She yelled at me…s-said it was m-my fault and that I s-should be dead instead of her s-son."

"Greg-"

"S-Said she was gonna get me back."

The Texan frowned. "She what? Greg did she…did she threaten you?"

Greg remained silent besides his uneven breathing and Nick took that as a 'yes.' He clenched his teeth, pulling away from his little brother and stood up, pacing the room. "I swear to god I'm gonna-"

"Nick-"

"Greg, don't say 'it's okay,' because it's far from it. She _threatened_ your life! Your _life_!" He glanced out the door with a determined look on his face. "She still here?"

"Nick, please."

"Greg, I'm not gonna just stand by and let this happen! What if she hires a guy to kill you? What if you get beat up again? You're my little brother, I'm supposed to protect you, have your back! And if I have to, I'll rip her apart if it means keeping you alive." And just as Nick reached the doorway, Greg's broken voice begged.

"Please Nick…don't, not right now."

The anger seemed to dissipate from Nick's body as he turned back around and looked at his exhausted friend sadly. He guessed he could wait; Greg needed him right now.

"Fine." He went over and sat down. "But I can't promise I won't do anything later."

Greg smiled weakly. He was glad Nick had his back and he hoped the man knew he had his as well. "Thanks for that."

"It's what big brothers do, G." Nick squeezed Greg's hand lightly and smiled. "And remember: it isn't your fault; if you say it is again, I'll slap you."

Greg flinched, his mind flashing back to the first punch he obtained back in the alley. Nick's smile fell and instantly went into remorse. "Oh crap Greg, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Relax Nick, it's okay. All this…it's just gonna take some time getting back to normal."

"Take all the time you need, bud; I'll be with you the way, alright? You're innocent and we- Sara, Me, Catherine, Warrick and Grissom- we're gonna do everything we can to prove that."

Greg smiled genuinely and wiped his face carefully. If Nick was gonna go through all the trouble to prove him innocent, then he guessed the man was right…Nick never lied…well, at least not to him. The weight on his chest lifted and the butterflies in his stomach disappeared.

"Thanks Nick; I know I can count on you."

"Damn straight. Now eat your burrito before it gets cold; Sara put a lot of thought into getting you a decent meal," Nick joked.

Greg chuckled and poked at the burrito with his finger. He scrunched up his nose and looked back at his friend. "It already is cold."

"And whose fault is that?" Nick snorted.

"Yours," laughed Greg.

"I beg to differ, Greggo, it's been sitting there for nearly half an hour. So eat it."

"Cold food- especially Mexican- is gross; but if you think it's fine, _you_ eat it."

"I accept your challenge." Nick picked up the burrito, took a bite and almost immediately the food bunched up in his mouth as he made a face.

Greg smirked as Nick spit the food into the trash can. "Told ya."

"Shut up." Nick wiped his mouth disgustedly, but once he looked at Greg, he shook his mouth and laughed…and Greg joined in. They laughed for a few minutes before it started to hurt the young CSI.

"Alright, alright, easy G."

The laughter died down and Greg settled back into the pillows, exhausted. "Thanks Nick."

"You're welcome, buddy."

With that, Greg's eye slid shut and his breaths evened out with sleep. Nick was glad he got that all straightened out. There was no need for the kid to feel guilty and he would also stick to his word…all three of his promises, actually. He _was_ going to prove Greg innocent no matter what, he _was_ gonna protect his little brother at all costs, and he _was_ gonna rip that bitch apart for threatening his brother. _No one_ threatened his family and got away with it.

**Fin**

**REVIEWS + PROMPTS!**


	3. Scars

**Scars**

_**For Semmi**_

_**Chapter Info: For Semmi**__**- Set in S5: **__**I know it's super old and been done but maybe not for a while? I'd love to see Greg dealing with the scars and aftermath (I imagine he'd have some lingering back pain too?) from Play with Fire, maybe a few years after and Nick not realizing how much it affects Greg or how badly he was scarred.**_

Greg winced as he pulled his shirt over his head, the fabric rubbing against his back. He sighed heavily, tears in his eyes as he turned sideways to look at his disgusting scars he so luckily obtained a couple years ago. And even though it happened a couple years ago, he was permanently stuck with them…and the pain. Every now and then he would get phantom pains in his back, flashing him into the past to that day. He was alone in the locker room and he hoped it'd stay that way; he was_ never_ gonna tell anyone this. Catherine would just feel bad, Nick and Warrick would probably laugh, Sara would be annoyed, and Grissom wouldn't even care. A sharp sting followed by a stab ran through his back. Greg stifled a whimper as he closed his eyes, smelling the burning plastic, feeling the hotness on his face and his back feeling like it was on fire. He was burning alive. When he finally managed to pull himself out of his trance, tears were trailing down his cheeks, his breathing was rapid and uneven and his whole body was trembling violently. He leaned his forehead against the nearby locker and took in a shaky breath.

"Pull yourself together, Sanders."

Suddenly, he heard familiar voices down the hall, getting closer with each second. Nick and Warrick; he couldn't let them see him like this. Hastily, he pulled his t-shirt back on, wiped his face and opened his locker, pretending to get something out of it- done all in time just before the Warrick continued to walk down the hall while Nick stepped into the locker room.

"Hey G, what's up?" Nick grinned, opening his locker without looking at the younger man yet.

Greg shut his locker and stuffed his shaking hands into his jacket pockets. "Nothing much; just heading out. Finish the case?"

"Yep, slam dunk; Mackey got five-" Nick looked up and saw his friend's eyes looking a little red. "You okay, bud?"

Greg paled. He should've known Nick might see through his mask. "Yeah, why?"

Nick frowned suspiciously. The man looked like he'd been crying, but he wasn't about to call him out on that. "Never mind; but if something was bothering you, you'd tell me right?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," Greg lied.

"Alright…you wanna come over and watch the game? There's gonna be wings."

Just as Greg was about to respond, another sharp pain coursed through his back. _No, no, no, not now._ He tried to hide a grunt but failed, knowing that he'd been caught. He had managed to keep himself from flashing back, but it didn't matter. He leaned against the locker and tried breathing through his nose.

"Greg? Greggo, you okay?" Nick said frantically. Had Greg gotten hurt during the case that no one knew about?

Greg blinked rapidly as the pain slowly ebbed away. He opened his eyes, pushed himself away from the locker and looked at the Texan frantically.

"Greg?"

"U-Umm…" Crap, what was he supposed to say? "Y-You were supposed to see that." Without knowing what to say next, Greg made a beeline for the door, hoping Nick wouldn't care enough to stop him. But Nick grabbed his arm and turned him around. If Greg was hurt, he wasn't gonna just let him walk away.

"Greg, what's wrong; tell me."

"It's nothing, Nick." Greg was getting scared. Nick could not know about these scars. "I promise."

"Greg-"

The younger man pulled his wrist out of Nick's grasp desperately. "I said I was fine." With that, he briskly walked out the door, leaving Nick stunned and confused. Greg was hiding something and he was gonna find out, because no way in hell was he gonna let his little brother walk around in pain.

~+CSI+~

The next night, Nick strolled around the lab looking for Greg. He wanted to confront this issue now; he didn't even want to think about missing something and possibly causing Greg to be hospitalized. He walked past the file room and stopped, seeing his young friend on the ladder, reaching for a box just beyond his reach…and then he saw it. When the side of Greg's shirt rode up a bit, pink and wrinkled skin peeked out from underneath…and it looked like it went all the way up the man's back even if he couldn't see it. They were scars…from the explosion; damn, he hadn't even known it'd gotten that bad…or that the kid had gotten scars at all. Could that possibly be the reason Greg had acted the way he did yesterday?

"God Greg."

Greg, who had been trying to reach the highest box two shelves above the ladder, had heard Nick's Texan drawl behind him. For a second he wondered why the man was saying that, and then he noticed his shirt had come up a little In desperation of trying to hide the scars, he slipped on the ladder and fell to the floor with a crash, bringing the box down with him. His wrist immediately began to scream with pain along with his back. Papers were spread all over the floor, some still floating in the air.

"Oh my god, G, are you alright?" Nick came over, helping him sit up.

He tried not to let tears escape from his eyes while he was around Nick and to do that, he had to get out of here. He pulled away and stiffly pushed himself off the ground; why couldn't Nick just let this go? "I'm fine," he muttered.

"G-"

"I said I'm fine, Nick!" He couldn't take it anymore. He ran out the door and to the only place he knew he'd find solace.

Nick was a little shocked at Greg's outburst and knew that this was serious. If Greg felt this ashamed about the scars _still_, then something was wrong. Sighing, he ignored the mess in the room and stepped out, trying to think where Greg would go…and then he remembered the last time Greg had gone up on the roof; when the kid and Sara had just finished the case where they found a dead, emaciated little boy stuff in the trash can…and getting shot at was pretty traumatizing especially if it was his first time.

In minutes, he reached the roof of the lab and scanned the area for his friend. He finally saw Greg sitting on the edge of the building, hunched, and if he looked close enough he could see the man's back trembling. Pursing his lips sadly, he slowly walked over and sat down, hating the sounds of his little brother crying. Greg suddenly sensed a presence besides him and brought his face out of his hands.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said, trying to get rid of the evidence that showed he was sobbing like a baby. "I didn't want you to see those."

Nick looked at Greg sadly. "Why? Greg, you don't need to be embarrassed."

"I'm a freak, that's why! My back is a mess and even though no one can see them, it still reminds me how much of a freak I am."

"You really believe that, G?"

Greg remained silent, but yeah he believed it entirely.

"Greg, don't you dare think that about yourself; you are not a freak. And this isn't something you should be coping with by yourself; let some of us carry the burden."

"I can't do that…especially not to Catherine. She already was beating herself up about this for months no matter how many times I said it was okay."

"Well, then why didn't you tell me? Aren't brothers supposed to tell each other everything?"

"I was afraid…I was afraid you'd just laugh at me."

Nick was surprised and a little upset that Greg would think that he'd actually do something like that. "G, you are the strongest person I know and I would _never_ laugh at you; how could you think I'd do that to you?"

Greg looked out into the night at all the lit up casinos and buildings. "I just…just knowing they're gonna be there my entire life…" more tears escaped his eyes and Nick swallowed, bringing the younger man to his shoulder, wrapping both arms around him.

"Hey, it'll be okay, I promise. You can't let those scars hold you back…and I'm so sorry realizing this sooner."

"I didn't exactly make it easy for you to."

"Yeah well, I still should've asked."

Greg sniffed and put his face into Nick's neck, letting the tears, he's kept in for so long since he found out he'd have scars, out. He felt Nick's grip tighten and it actually made him feel better knowing the man didn't care what he had on his back. After what seemed like hours, Greg pulled away and wiped his face.

"You gonna be okay, man?"

"Y-Yeah," Greg said shakily, giving Nick a smile for good measure. "Thanks Nick."

"You're welcome, bud." Then he remembered how hard Greg landed on his hand. "What about your hand, is that okay?"

Greg hadn't even noticed his wrist actually, but when he looked down, it was purple and swollen. When he moved it even a little, he winced from the sharp pain traveling through his arm. Nick gently picked it up and laid it in his own palm.

"Looks sprained."

"I don't have to go to the hospital do I?"

"'Fraid so, buddy."

Greg groaned. He _hated_ hospitals.

"It'll be okay; remember: you're not alone in this." Nick stood up and grabbed Greg's uninjured hand, pulling him up. He wrapped his arm around Greg's shoulder and pulled him close as they walked back to the door. "I'll always be there for you, buddy."

Greg smiled weakly. He was glad to have a big brother like Nick.

**REVIEWS+PROMPTS!**


	4. Sacrificing For a Brother

**Sacrificing For a Brother**

_**For Lil Badger 101**_

_**Chapter info: Prompts, hmm... I like how you write protective Nick, but how about Greg protecting Nick and sacrificing himself maybe?**_

_**CSI Wannabe99: no they weren't, I'm just going in order of the reviews I've gotten; don't worry I'll get to yours soon :)**_

Greg glanced up from his camera and looked over at Nick who was snapping photos of their latest victim. The Texan was pissed; not with him in particular, but Warrick had been murdered only a month ago and it was still fresh in their hearts…especially Nick's. The man had pulled away and practically ignored everyone who tried to cheer him up...and he never spoke two words to Greg unless it had something to do with work. And then today, the stupid slip of his; he called Nick 'Nicky' which was the name only used by Warrick. Without warning, Nick had angrily punched the locker, shouted a few harsh words and left the room. Now the man wouldn't speak to him, joke around with him, or even look at him. It hurt. Sighing, Greg resumed taking his pictures, tuning out from the world.

Nick rolled his eyes as he noticed Greg giving him another sympathetic glance. Why couldn't the kid just leave him be? Couldn't he see he was trying cope? But then again, maybe he was a bit too harsh on Greg; after all Warrick was his friend as well. He glanced at the younger man who was hunched over, taking photos and was about to say something when a blood trail caught his eye.

"Found a blood trail; gonna go check it out."

Greg looked up and watched as the Texan disappeared down the hallway. He wished things would go back to normal, but he had a funny feeling in his gut telling him that it wouldn't. Biting the inside of his lip, he resumed his photo-taking wondering if there was any way he could fix this tension between the two of them.

Meanwhile, Nick continued to follow the trail of blood down the hall and to the backyard. _So the struggle must've happened out here? Strange._ And just as he stepped out onto the lawn, he was tackled from the side by a brute force. With instinct, he began to fight back all the while, trying to figure out who this person was. When he felt like he was getting the upper hand, he heard the sound of his gun sliding out from his holster, the attacker releasing him and the gun cocking. Nick froze, putting his hands up in surrender as he looked up into the face of the man. It was the victim's brother; hadn't they just finished talking to him?

"Lance? What are you doing here?" He tried to sound calm.

"To make sure you're gonna keep your mouth shut."

"You killed Lydia didn't you? Your own sister?"

The man standing above him shifted, but kept the gun steady. "Yeah, but no one else will know that…cause I'm gonna kill you."

"I'm not the only CSI, you know."

"You think I'm stupid? I know there's that skinny blonde boy in the house. When I'm finished with you, I'm gonna kill him as well."

Nick clenched his jaw; he didn't like it when someone threatened his family…especially Greg. His anger built up inside him, wanting to beat the shit out of this guy and prevent him from hurting Greg…but it was him against a loaded gun.

"Get up," sneered Lance.

Nick hesitated for a moment before pushing himself off the ground, staring hard into the muzzle of the gun.

"Now turn around and walk forward."

He took a deep breath and unfortunately complied, walking towards a ditch. His heart raced, praying it wasn't what he thought it was. And without warning, he felt a boot kick him in the back. He fell into the shallow grave, sputtering out dirt that managed to get into his mouth. He quickly turned around in fear as he looked into the man's cold eyes. This couldn't be happening again; he didn't think he'd mentally be able to handle being buried alive again. This was his worst fear and he was gonna die this time.

"Please don't do this."

"It's the way it's gonna-"

Suddenly, shovel swung out of nowhere, striking Lance in the head with a loud bang. The man crumpled to the ground unmoving, leaving Nick completely shocked…and even more shocked when Greg came into view, breathing heavily.

"You okay?"

Nick was surprised; he never would've expected Greg to do something so violent to another human being. After snapping out of his disbelief, Nick nodded jerkily. "Y-Yeah, thanks G."

The younger man held out his hand and Nick took it, heaving himself out of the ditch. He began brushing the dirt off of him and looking down at the unconscious attacker. "You hit that guy." He really underestimated the kid.

"Y-Yeah," Greg breathed, following Nick's gaze. He was a bit shaken; he'd hurt someone. Besides accidently killing a kid a few years ago- though Nick assured him it was self-defense- he had _intentionally_ hurt someone. "Yeah I guess I did."

"Are you okay?"

Greg swallowed. "Yeah." Nick actually cared? What happened to the man who yelled at him earlier?

Nick looked down at the ground for a moment before staring sadly at his little brother. He shouldn't have been so mean to Greg in the locker room. It was an honest accident and clearly he was being a bit too sensitive with the whole 'Nicky' thing. "Umm…look G; I'm sorry about this morning."

"Nick-"

"No, hear me out. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that; I know Warrick…" but Nick's voice began fading out as Greg looked over the Texan's shoulder. Lance was suddenly coming to. Before he knew what was happening next, the gun was out and aiming at Nick's back; and he didn't even think about it, he just jumped on impulse.

"Nick look out!" He shoved Nick to the side just as the gun went off.

Nick had wondered why Greg was yelling and pushing him to the side, but as he fell to the grass, he remembered that Lance still had his gun; he had forgotten to clear it. And then came the gunshot. He turned around, feeling like the world was moving in slow motion as he looked at Greg with petrified fear. A red spot began rapidly blooming from the left side of Greg's chest; Greg's eyes were wide and staring back at him. His face instantly drained of all color and before Nick knew it, Greg was slowly descending to the ground.

"No!" Nick screamed as he scrambled to his knees. He hadn't even noticed that the officers had shown up and were now subduing Lance. But he didn't care; Greg was more important. He crawled over to the younger CSI, tears already pooling in his eyes. The kid looked like shit; all color was void from Greg's face, his breathing was wet and erratic, blood was trickling from his mouth and worst of all, his eyes were closed.

"Greg? Greggo, come on man…don't do this, please." He gently lifted the man's upper body into his lap, brushing the stray blonde hair from his clammy forehead. "Greg!"

Greg's breathing hitched as his eyes blinked open sluggishly. They were glassy and filled with confusion; when he met Nick's eyes, he tried to speak, but all the blood in his throat was starting to choke him. His eyes started to close again, feeling tired and ready to die. He hurt so much.

"Greg, please don't give up…please. Keep those eyes open, man."

Greg pushed himself to lift his eyelids but it was so damn hard. He looked up at Nick, sadness in his eyes, pleading Nick to let him go. He weakly grasped the Texan's jacket in his fist, tears trickling from the corner of his eyes.

"Greg," Nick choked. Where were the damn paramedics?! "Greg, please; I know it's difficult, but you got to keep fighting…for me. God, I'm so sorry for what I said to you in the locker room. None of its true- you _are_ my little brother and I can't lose you. I already lost one brother, I can't lose another."

Greg stared at him, more tears pouring onto his face, mixing with the blood. The red substance was soaking both Greg and Nick and it was scaring the Texan at how much blood the younger man was losing.

"N-n…" Greg attempted to say, but it was too hard. He squeezed Nick's jacket before he couldn't hold on any longer. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his grip slackened and he fell limp in Nick's arms.

"Greggo? Greg! Oh god, come on buddy! Please don't do this." He brought his ear up to Greg's mouth and his heart stopped. Greg wasn't breathing. "Shit, shit, shit. Greg!"

~+CSI+~

Nick stared at his friend lying in the hospital, motionless and needing help to breathe. It sickened him; and it sickened him that the kid had sacrificed himself for _him_. The guy who had been a complete asshole to the kid all week.

"God Greggo, I'm so sorry." Nick's chin trembled as more tears fell onto his face. He couldn't help feel that this was all his fault. It was his fault Greg had been shot, his fault Greg had died for nearly three and a half minutes, his fault that Greg had been in a coma for about two weeks now. Why had he been self-centered; Greg had been grieving too, why hadn't he said something? He grabbed Greg's cold, limp hand rubbing it to try and warm it up; the kid was so pale and sick looking and he had caused it.

"You gotta wake up, man," Nick sniffed. "You can't leave like this."

The doctor said there was a seventy-five percent chance Greg wouldn't wake up and a sixty percent he wouldn't live very long if he did. The bullet had been half an inch away from Greg's heart, practically nicking it. It had been touch and go for a while; they had lost him once in the ambulance and twice on the table. It scared Nick to death hearing that Greg might get the same fate that Warrick had. God, this couldn't be happening.

"Greggo…" He laid his head by Greg's arm, entwining his hand with Greg's as he closed his eyes. Tears dripped onto the blanket, praying that when he woke up, this would all be a dream; that none of this ever happened.

The moment he woke up, he knew something was wrong; he couldn't hear the heart monitor and he couldn't feel Greg's hand in his. _Oh crap, oh shit! No!_ He jerked awake and found that he was slumped in his chair and Greg's bed was empty.

"Oh god." He knew he never should've fallen asleep. He began crying again; he just lost another brother.

"Nicky?"

He looked up and saw Catherine with a confused look on her face. "Nicky, where's Greg?"

He just looked at her with a sorrowful glance before looking away. "He's gone, Cath…Greg's-"

"Oh crap, I'm so sorry," someone behind Catherine exclaimed. It was the doctor. "I thought you'd still be sleeping; you looked exhausted and I didn't want to wake you up."

Nick frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Greg's fine; he woke up about an hour ago and we just had to run a few tests." With that being said, a couple nurses were wheeling Greg back into the room.

All the fear and weight lifted off Nick's chest when he saw his slumbering little brother. He still looked like crap, but he was gaining a little color in his cheeks. Relief filled his entire body and he felt a tiny smile form onto his face.

"Thank god…so, how is he?"

"Surprisingly, he's doing excellent; all his vitals are good. He may need some respiratory therapy, but he should be up and about in no time. It's a miracle, actually."

Nick grinned, grasping Greg's hand in his…Greg's _warm_ hand. Now all the kid had to do wake up.

~+CSI+~

It was about ten at night and Nick was dozing off in the chair besides Greg. The kid had been sleeping all day and it was boring Nick to death…but it sure as hell beat Greg being in a coma. He suddenly heard the heart monitor beep faster and a groan come from the bed. Immediately, Nick's eyes snapped open and he leaned closer to his friend.

"G?"

Greg moaned again, his face scrunching up in fear and confusion.

Nick placed a hand on Greg's arm, assuring him that it was okay. "Come on, bud, open those eyes for me."

After a few excruciating moments, Greg's eyes flickered open, revealing tired brown orbs. Nick smiled as Greg rolled his head and stared at him blankly.

"Hey kiddo."

"N-N…" Greg began to cough and Nick grabbed the cup of water, helping him sip some of the liquid.

"Easy, Greggo, take it easy." Nick pressed the button to raise the bed and then he carefully helped lower Greg onto the pillows. Once the man was settled, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"W-What happened?"

Nick swallowed; he knew talking about this would just press play on the video he had playing in his head over and over again. For the past week that was all he saw; Greg pushing him out of the way, hearing that dreadful gunshot, seeing Greg die.

"You…ah…you got shot."

"At a crime scene?"

"Yeah…um…it was a bullet meant for me…god, G." A gun ran out inside his head as he saw Greg fall to the ground, blooding spilling out of his mouth and soaking the grass below him. Without thinking, he grabbed Greg into his arms and held him tight, wanting to make sure the kid was really there; that he wasn't dreaming.

"Ow…Nick, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's nothing…I just thought I was gonna lose you like…like Warrick."

"What are you talking about?" Surely it couldn't have been that bad right?

"You died…you died in my arms." Tears threatened to fall again, but Nick pushed them back.

"Oh…" Crap. Greg wrapped his arms around the Texan's back. "Well, I'm okay; it's okay. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Nick choked a laugh as he pulled away. "I'm glad you're okay…and I'm sorry."

Greg frowned. "I don't under-"

"When Warrick died, I lost my brother and I completely forgot that my other one is still here. And I pushed you away when you needed me the most; I was so blinded by my own grieving that I didn't even think that you'd lost a brother, too…and I'm sorry."

Greg looked at his hands and remained silent, a lump of emotion stuck in his throat.

"It's okay; you had a reason Nick. You were upset."

"And you weren't? G, I know you were; Hodges told me that you were really struck by it."

"Hodges told you? That son of a bitch."

Nick's eyes widened at Greg's choice words. The kid rarely ever swore. "You were upset and you didn't get angry at me or ignore me; I've been a complete jerk to you…I'm so sorry, Greggo. You gotta believe how sorry I am."

A few moments of hesitation and then… "I believe you Nick, I forgive you."

Nick smiled weakly. "Why did you do that? Push me out of the way and take the bullet?"

"Returning the deed."

"And what deed is that, that makes you risk your life?"

"You do it all the time and it was my turn to do the same; just like you protect me. I was protecting my big brother."

**Fin**

**REVIEWS+PROMPTS!**


	5. Bloodshot

**Bloodshot**

_**For EarthtoAlex**_

_**Chapter Info:**_ _**There's a small explosion in the part of a scene Greg s processing that injures his eyes making him temporarily blind and the team has to help him as he recovers.**_

** This is just one of her ideas; I'll do the other one later on :)**

**Enjoy!**

Greg slowly walked closer to the peculiar car, his ears perking up at the weird sound. He knew the van was out of the crime scene's boundaries, but he noticed some dark crimson spots leading around the unfinished building of the construction site. He should also probably have backup since he hated guns, but it was just around the corner nothing bad would happen…right? He held up his camera and snapped a photo before walking to the driver's side. _What would a van be doing here randomly? _Just as he was about to open the door, the ticking noise got louder. Now he was starting to worry; Greg bent over to look at the van's underbelly, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. After standing up straight and biting the inside of his cheek, he walked over to the rear and opened the back doors…what he saw made his legs turn to jelly. A bomb…a big bomb that had five seconds left to detonate. That wasn't nearly enough time to get out of here, but he had to make a run for it, because it was either get banged up or become burnt toast.

Meanwhile, Nick was snapping photos, completely unaware that Greg had wandered off and not really caring. The kid was really getting on his nerves today; he didn't know why, but the happiness and bounciness isn't what he needed when Warrick died a week ago. It was like he wasn't sad that their best friend was _murdered._ Scoffing, he was about to take another photo when a loud boom came from behind him. The ground shook and it suddenly got a bit hotter; Nick turned around and saw smoke billowing up into the air. He scanned the area and finally noticing that Greg was nowhere to be seen; and his gut was telling him something was terribly wrong. Setting the camera on the ground, he- along with others- ran to the source of the explosion. The area was engulfed in smoke and debris was clattering on the ground; Nick coughed into his sleeve as he squinted through the smoke.

"Greg! *cough, cough* G, are you here?" He suddenly heard a small cough followed by a weak groan come from up ahead. "Greg!" Nick broke out into a run, praying that his friend was okay. The air began to clear and he could make out a shape crumpled on the ground. Greg.

He fell to his knees next to the man who was on his laying side, unmoving. Nick rolled Greg to his back and brought his upper body into his arms. Blood was running from a gash on the kid's head, there were a few other scraps and cuts, no doubt Greg would be sore as hell tomorrow, but everything else seemed to be relatively okay. "Come on man, talk to me."

Greg groaned again, shifting weakly in Nick's hold. He scrunched his face up as he began coughing violently.

"Easy Greg, it's okay."

"N-Nick?"

"Right here, bud." God, he wished he didn't let the kid go off on his own. Greg was a highly capable CSI, but he'd only been for four years. "Open your eyes."

Everything hurt; his head hurt, his face burned, and his whole body was screaming for him to pass out. And he was about to until he heard Nick's voice. He desperately wanted to open his eyes, but his eyelids were so heavy. He coughed again and felt Nick's grip tighten. _Come on Sanders, open your eyes._ Greg lifted himself up a little and willed his eyelids to open…and he felt them do so, but everything was still black. It wasn't night time, he was sure of it; he blinked again, hoping that it was just the smoke in the air, but he somehow knew it wasn't. His heart began to beat painfully against his bruised chest. It was still dark; he couldn't see anything. He felt like puking, this really couldn't be happening.

"N-Nick?" His hands searched the man frantically, making sure he was really there. "Nick!"

"What? What is it, Greggo?" The Texan looked behind him, thinking that Greg was seeing some kind of threat. The man's eyes were open wide and he looked like he feared for his life. "Greg, answer me."

"I-I can't see, Nick. I can't see!" He was friggin blind!

The color drained from Nick's face as he looked down at his friend. Greg couldn't be blind; this was all some kind of joke. But there was no laughter on the kid's face. "Fuck. Call the medics!"

The younger man began to shed tears and Nick brought Greg's head to his chest, running his fingers through the blonde hair. "Just breathe, Greggo. It'll be okay," his heart was breaking at the sobs coming from his little brother. "We'll figure this out, I promise."

~+CSI+~

Nick paced the waiting room impatiently as he awaited Greg's diagnosis; the kid couldn't be blind. _Please god, don't make him blind._

"Nick!"

The Texan turns around to see Sara coming towards him looking like she just rolled out of bed…she probably did since she had gotten the day off.

"Catherine called and told me what happened; is Greg okay?"

"I don't know," Nick breathed. "They haven't come out yet…god dammit, he can't be blind. It'll shatter his life."

Sara sighed sadly, nodding her head. Nick was right; if Greg was blind, no longer could he be a field agent…he wouldn't even be able to go back to being a lab-rat. Greg would have no job and this job meant _everything_ to the kid. "How long have you been waiting?"

"I don't know; feels like hours. God, how long does it take to see if someone's permanently blind or-"

Suddenly the doors opened, causing Nick to stop and nearly run up to the doctor.

"Is he okay?"

The doctor wasn't a bit surprised by Nick's approach; he was used to anxious family members. "He's doing fine; if you'd follow me?" They all walked down the hall, Nick glancing at the doctor impatiently. 'Fine' was not good enough for him; he wanted to know about the blindness.

"Alright, out with it Doc. Is Greg blind?"

The older man sighed dejectedly. "Yes, he is…"

Nick swallowed, his heart thudding against his chest. That was it; Greggo's life was over.

"…But it's only temporary."

"What? It is?"

"Yes. Greg sustained a major concussion that is putting some serious pressure on his optic nerves."

"How long will this last?" Sara asked.

They stopped in front of a closed door and Nick immediately knew it was Greg's room.

"Usually it last between three to five days, but it varies from person to person. I'd like to keep him overnight to make sure there are no drastic changes, but if he has someone he can stay with, he can be discharged tomorrow morning."

Nick nodded. "Can we see him?"

"Sure; he's resting right now, but talk to him. This is a very frightening experience, he's needs all the support he can get."

As the doctor left, Sara and Nick entered the room quietly so they wouldn't disturb their friend. They saw that Greg had two giant pads covering his eyes as well as bandages wrapped around the cuts on his arm and head. Nick pursed his lips sadly; the poor kid. And maybe none of this would've happened if he didn't send the kid somewhere else. If he had been the one to search the rest of the scene, maybe it'd be him in the hospital bed instead of Greg. The man didn't deserve this. Greg's breathing was soft and steady and it was music to Nick's ears; at least Greg was still alive. That was the thing that mattered the most.

"I'm gonna go get coffee," Sara said, placing a hand on Nick's back for a moment. "You want one?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

Sara smiled. "He'll be okay."

"I hope you're right." Once Sara left, Nick grabbed a chair and quietly dragged it over to Greg's bedside. He smiled and without thinking he reached out a hand, placing it on Greg's. He immediately got a response, Greg jerking awake and his breathing intensifying.

"Easy Greg, easy; it's just me, Nick."

"N-Nick? Wh-where are you?"

"Right next to you."

Greg raised his hand, searching the air and Nick grabbed it, squeezing the man's fingers gently. "Right here, bud."

"Why can't I see, oh god. I'm blind? Nick!"

"Hey, hey, hey Greggo take it easy, it's okay. It's only temporary."

"Are you sure?" Greg's voice wavered as he started to calm down.

"Stole the words right out of the doc's mouth."

Greg nodded jerkily and took a deep breath. "Okay…good."

"Did you want someone to call your mom?"

"No, please don't."

Nick frowned. "You did tell them you weren't in the lab anymore, right? Grissom advised you to."

"Yeah I did, but…I don't want my mom getting frantic over nothing and I definitely don't want her dropping everything and coming here, you know? She's…"

"Overprotective?" Nick smiled.

"You could say that."

"Alright, we won't call them."

"Thanks."

It remained silent between the two of them and Nick cleared his throat softly. "You gonna be okay?"

"Head hurts…and besides not being able to see, yeah I'm okay." Greg yawned, leaning back into the pillows.

"Get some rest, G. Doc says you can leave tomorrow if things go well."

When he received no response, Nick frowned. "Greg?" There was suddenly light snoring coming from his blonde friend causing him to smile. "You'll be okay, G."

Greg's hand weakly squeezed Nick's in response, knowing that Nick would be with him all the way.

~+CSI+~

"Nick, I can't do this."

"Sure you can, Greggo, I know you can."

Nick had volunteered to be the one to watch Greg and now that they didn't have a wheelchair, it was a bit difficult…however Greg did have a cane which made Nick excited to make old people jokes later on. They were at the bottom of the stairs and Greg was hesitant of walking up.

"Nick-" Greg pushed back, afraid something bad was gonna happen.

"G, just trust me. You do trust me right?"

The young CSI nodded shakily, swallowing nervously.

"Then come on; I promise nothing will happen except you making it all the way to the top. Okay?"

"Okay."

Slowly, Nick helped Greg up the steps; they stumbled a couple a times and Nick could feel the younger man shaking, but he was keeping his promise. He was gonna be by his side the whole way…up the stairs and through this whole ordeal.

"Almost there, bud, you're doing great."

Greg offered a weak smile, but remained silent. Once they reached the top, Greg was breathing heavily and sweating. It took so much concentrating to not fall on his face that walking up the stairs was actually a challenge for him.

"Doin' alright, bud?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm g-good. Need to s-sit down, though."

Nick opened the door and lead Greg to the couch. "You want something to eat?"

Greg shook his head. "Actually…I have to go to the bathroom." A red tint crept on his cheeks.

"Sure thing." Nick took Greg to down the hall and to the bathroom. "You…you need-"

"No." Greg said immediately, completely embarrassed.

"Okay, just checking," Nick grinned and after he made sure Greg knew where everything was, he headed for the door. "Just try to aim."

Greg let out a small laugh and waited for the door to close. And when it did, he felt for the sink, knowing that the mirror would be right there. He didn't need to go the bathroom, he was just upset about this whole thing and wanted to prove that he didn't need these pirate patches. Slowly, he reached up to his face and searched for the edge of the patch; he began to pull of the bandage, praying that the doctor was stupid and he really could see. Once the other side was off, Greg bit his lip as he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry and it made him dizzy. He gripped the edge of the sink and closed his eyes; his head was pounding, making him feel nauseous. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._

"Greggo, you alright in there bud?"

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Be out in a second."

Even if his head did hurt, he was not putting those things back on; they were itchy and annoying. After flushing the toilet to make it sound like he actually went to the bathroom, Greg washed his hands and called for Nick.

"Right behind y- Greg, why did you take those off?"

"It's not like I need them, Nick. They were bothering me."

Nick hesitated as he led Greg back to towards the couch. If it was bothering the kid, he guessed it was alright to take the patches off for a while, but it was kind of weird seeing Greg's eyes so…unseeing. "Alright, but if it gets too much you're putting them back on."

"Whatever _mom_."

~+CSI+~

"I still don't think this is a good idea, bud."

"Why?"

"Doc said you need to take it easy…going into work isn't exactly doing so." Greg had managed to persuade Nick to bring him into the lab, though Nick didn't like the idea.

"Nick, I need to do something; it's so boring just sitting around."

"And what are you gonna do here that's different?"

Greg remained silent, unable to think of an answer.

"Exactly."

"Well, I can show Catherine and Sara my battle scars…or injuries- maybe I'll get a few kisses out of it."

Nick rolled his eyes but laughed. Good old Greg. "We'll see about that; but we both know that I'm the handsome one."

Greg smiled as he felt himself sit down in the familiar couch in the break-room.

"Uh oh, here come the ladies," Nick warned.

"Greg!" _Catherine._ The young CSI felt the woman hug him tightly and she kissed him on the cheek. He smiled, knowing Nick was right there probably rolling his eyes. "How are you, Hun?"

"I've been better. I'd like to see."

"Luckily it's only temporary," Sara grinned as Catherine stepped back to let her hug her friend.

After talking for a little, Greg yawned a little, alerting everyone that the kid should really be resting and not at the lab.

"Well, we have to get back to work," Catherine said, giving Greg one more kiss on the cheek. "We'll come back later, Greg."

Greg smiled and laid himself on the couch. He couldn't believe how exhausted he was. Before Nick knew it, Greg was fast asleep. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over the skinny form. "Sleep well, kiddo."

**Two Hours Later**

Nick walked back to break room, exhausted from sifting through the remains of the truck. When he got inside, his blood ran cold; Greg was gone. Where could he have gone; surely not far? He briskly walked out into the hallways and looked both ways, running a hand through his hair.

"Crap." The kid had no idea where the hell he was going so for all he knew Greg could be in the basement. Nick decided to go left and he walked down the halls, looking in every single room. Suddenly, he walked past the file room and saw the blonde sitting on the floor holding his head.

"Greg?"

"Nick, that you?"

"Yeah…man, what the hell are you doing, walking around by yourself?"

"I'm not a three-year old," Greg mumbled irritably. He just wanted to stretch his legs; and then he got dizzy and had to sit down somewhere…wherever he was.

"Whatever, come on I'll help you up." Just as Greg got to his feet, his knees instantly went weak, leaning into Nick.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa; you okay?"

"Yeah, just dizzy."

"Let's get back to the couch, 'kay?"

Nodding, Greg leaned into Nick as brought him to couch.

"I hate this," Greg grumbled, speaking about the blindness. He sat back down and sighed.

"I know, just be patient."

"You know that's not one of my strong suits."

Nick smiled, patting Greg on the shoulder. "It'll get better, I promise."

And a day later it did. Greg was sitting on the couch- once again convincing Nick that he could go back to the lab…Nick said yes, but only if he'd put the pads back on. Now he was feeling something in his gut, telling him it was time; that he'd be able to see. Inhaling sharply, he peeled the bandages back and heartbeat second, he blinked open his eyes. The images were somewhat blurry, but as he kept blinking, things were getting clearer. A smile crept on his face as the familiar break-room came into view. He could see again.

"Hey Greg, I got you a-"

"Nick?"

The Texan looked at his friend and noticed Greg's eyes were different…seeing. "Greg…can you see me?"

The blonde nodded, still a bit in shock, but otherwise happy. "Yeah…yeah I can. I can see."

Nick smiled and strode over, giving his little brother a great big bear hug. "Thank god."

"Thanks Nick."

"For what little bro?"

"For your support; I probably never would've gotten through this without you."

"You're welcome, buddy and it's good to have you back."

**Fin**

** Did you like it? Sucky ending? The next one should be up soon since I'm a day behind. REVIEWS! PROMPTS! P.s Idk if the Crime lab actually has a basement; I'm just assuming :)**

**Next up: csiwannabe99's prompt**


	6. Underneath the Rubble

**Paralyzed**

**I have decided that I cannot do a story every day due to school and work and all that stuff that's not my favorite thing to do as writing, so I will get a story up when I have the chance to(possibly two-three stories a week) until I reach 30 stories, so get your prompts in quickly!**

_**For CSIWannabe99**_

_**Chapter info: My personal fav a building collapses on him and suffers several broken bones with some internal injures such as fractured spine ruptured kidney so I might have put a little too much thought into this for a little too much time but it's really up to you.**_

Greg walked into the abandoned apartment, nervous as hell and his only weapon a camera. He was the only one on scene- well, besides the officers who were both outside. Nick was supposed to show up, but it seems he was running late; the Texan was gonna owe him big time. Sighing, he walked further into the run down room, the floors creaking with each step. It made him a bit uneasy whether or not this place was actually stable. At any moment it could come crashing down on him. He tried not to think about it, but it was a nagging thought. Closing his eyes for a brief second, Greg inhaled. Nothing bad was gonna happen; it couldn't be any worse than the explosion that happened a few years ago. Once he got his composure, he set down his kit and walked further into the building; Brass had gotten a call about a dead body in the basement so that's where he was going. After grabbing the camera, a couple bags, and blood swabs, Greg headed down the steps into the never ending abyss of a basement. It gave him the chills; he didn't want to sound like a wimp, but he wished Nick would hurry up. The stairs sounded like groaning souls of hell every time he hit a step and when he got the landing, his heart beat faster. The temperature seemed to drop a good fifteen degrees and it was deadly quiet.

"I can do this, I can do this." He repeated in a whisper. "There's nothing here but you and the body." Greg frowned.

But where was the body? Surely Brass said it was in the basement, right? Maybe he meant attic? Grumbling about almost wetting his pants for nothing, Greg turned to head back up the stairs when something caught his eye. Something white standing out against the darkness. Even knowing that this could only lead to something bad, the young CSI's curiousness got the better of him and he gradually walked over. It was a piece of paper.

"Well this is stupid." He snapped a photo before picking it up. His eyes immediately went wide when he read what was on the paper.

_Dear CSI's,_

_ There is a bomb in the house set to go off; by picking this up, you have triggered the clock…_

Greg paled and only then noticed that there was some type of thin string attached to the paper. As his breathing quickened, he continued to read the note.

_...you have one minute to evacuate from this building and by the time you finish reading this, you will have twenty seconds. Run, pigs, run!_

Without a second thought, Greg dropped the paper and scrambled to the stairs. He knew he wasn't gonna make it; he couldn't even run 40 meters in thirty seconds. But he had to try. And he had to warn the others.

Ten seconds. Greg was almost to the top.

"Bomb! There's a bomb! Get aw-"

But it was too late; the explosion was deafening. Smoke and heat clogged up his throat and restricted his vision. He heard the building rumble, felt it shake and within seconds, Greg slipped into oblivion.

~+CSI+~

Nick drove down the street towards the crime scene he and Greg had to process. He was late; he knew he was late. He just wanted the kid to do most of the work today. He smirked at the thought of Greg being there alone, forced to do most of the tough tasks. But his smile vanished when he noticed fire trucks, ambulances, and more squad cars surrounding the building…well what was left of it. The whole apartment had collapsed on itself, pieces of it strewn out all over the ground. Smoke was floating in the air making it difficult to see and everything around the area looked like it'd been blown back. A bomb.

"Shit." He stopped the Denali in the middle of the road and ran over to see Officer Ackers and another officer sitting in the back of an ambulance. They had cuts on their faces here and a possible broken arm there, but nothing looked life threatening. But where was Greg? Dread filled the pit of his stomach. Something wasn't right.

"Ackers, what happened?"

The officer squinted up at him and pointed to his own ears. "I can't hear you!"

The medic turned to Nick. "Hearing's gone; only temporary, though. It's normal after dealing with a blast wave."

"Blast wa- what happened?"

The other officer turned to Nick; it seemed that he could hear a little. "I don't know!" He shouted, not really knowing how loud he actually was. "We were just standing out here while the CSI was inside; five minutes later we heard someone shouting bomb before the explosion!"

The blood in Nick's body ran cold. "So…Greg's not out here?"

"No, I don't…crap."

Greg had been in the apartment when the bomb went off. Holy shit, this could not be happening. He headed for the destroyed building in a panicked run; he had to find his kid brother, he couldn't let anything happen to him.

"Greg! Greggo, can you hear me?" He dug through the remains, not even caring if he cut his hand or ripped his fingernails. "Come on bud, talk to me here!" He wasn't giving up; Greg wasn't dying today. "Greg!"

He suddenly heard a weak, muffled groan come from a little ways ahead of him. He perked up and crawled on his hands and knees to the spot. He moved some pieces of the building to the side and finally saw a hand. A battered and bloodied hand, but it was Greg's hand.

"Hold on there, buddy; I'm gonna get you out. I need a medic!" Nick's breathing intensified as he dug further; seeing the arm, the shoulder and finally Greg's face.

"Oh god, G." The man was covered in so much blood. "Hang on man, just hang on for me, okay?"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Yelled a medic who suddenly appeared at his side as Nick started to drag his friend out. "Don't move him, we don't know what's broken. We need to do this carefully." The man gestured another medic over who was carrying supplies and gently pushed Nick away.

"No I can't…I can't leave him."

"Sir, we need as much room as possible so we don't end up making the wrong move."

"But-"

"Nicky." The Texan looked up and saw Catherine standing over him with a sad look on her face. "Let them do their job; Greg's in good hands." She pulled him up and away from the scene bringing him back to the cars. Nick winced when he caught glimpse of Greg's Denali turned over and blackened from the blast. _Fuck._

"Catherine I…I need to be with him."

"And you will be; when he's stable…but for now, tell me what happened?"

Nick felt _extremely_ guilty…maybe even call it survivor's guilt. Greg was hurt and he wasn't even when he was supposed to be. If he had been here on time, Greg wouldn't be suffering this alone.

"I don't know…I got here and the place was like this."

"Weren't you already supposed to be here with Greg?"

"I was late…traffic," he lied. He had actually gone to get coffee. God he was so fucking stupid!

"He'll be okay, right Cath?"

"Don't worry, Hun; Greg's a fighter, he won't give up that easily."

The medics finally got Greg on a backboard, bracing his neck with a collar and wheeling him towards the nearest ambulance. Nick was gonna puke; the kid was mess. His clothes were torn, gashes and bruises littered the man's small body and it looked like the medics had to splint some broken bones…actually, a lot of them.

"One-fifty over eighty; we're losing him fast. Hurry!"

Nick held back a sob as he watched the young CSI get loaded into the back of the emergency vehicle and then it speed off to the closest hospital.

~+CSI+~

This was the worst news he got since Warrick. Almost every bone in Greg's body- 175 to be exact- had been broken. Nick had to imagine if he'd pulled Greg from the rubble the wrong way and there would probably be more. There were so many words like spine fracture, damaged kidneys, ruptured spleen, swelling in the brain, skull fracture, a broken leg and arm, bruised lungs and throat, a few broken fingers and lots and lots of cuts. Not to mention how sore Greg will be when he wakes up…and that was another thing…_if_ he wakes up. Right now Greg was in a medically induced coma, but prior to doing so, the CSI had shown no signs of reactions.

Nick wiped his face, holding back the tears of anger. He was so pissed at himself that he wanted to punch the wall. And he was about to when the doctor had asked if they wanted to see the kid. Now, Nick was sitting by his friend, not wanting to touch the guy since he was so afraid of causing more pain. He watched as Greg's chest rose and fell steadily with each small breath. The only good side of this was that his little brother had been strong enough to breathe on his own.

"That's right, buddy, just keep on fighting. I'm right here for you, so don't you give up…please." He cautiously brushed a sweaty blonde strand of hair from Greg's forehead before sighing heavily. "Geez little brother, you are gonna be the death of me…and I swear if you give me gray hairs, someone is gonna get an ass-whooping when they're better."

The lack of response made Nick's weak smile disappear. "You just focus on getting better, G. We'll find the bastard who did this." He stroked a part of Greg's arm that wasn't bandaged before he got up and left. As much as he really wanted to be by his brother's side, it wouldn't do the case any good. They needed to find the guy who did this to Greg, because no one got away with hurting family.

It only took 72-hours, but they finally managed to catch the man who did this. Once again, it was a guy who held a grudge on the CSI's. It wasn't surprising, but it made everyone pissed how far this guy went and how close they were to losing the youngest of their team.

"Alright man, you've slept long enough. Time to wake up now." Greg was taken off the medicine that put him in a coma, but there were still no signs of brain activity. The doctor had said the swelling went down, but so far wasn't changing anything. Disgusting bruises had started to form and now Greg looked like he went three rounds with Mike Tyson.

"G, come on buddy; I need you to wake up." Nick wrapped a hand around Greg's thumb- the only finger that wasn't broken. "I need to know-" Suddenly, he felt Greg's thumb twitch weakly, causing Nick's heart to jump. "Greg?"

The blonde's face scrunched up in confusion before his eyes blinked open, revealing tired brown orbs. He looked a bit lost, but once he blinked a couple times, Greg was aware of his surroundings…and the pain. He whimpered softly, the bones in his body aching, his face hurting, overall just in so much fucking pain.

"Greg?" Nick could see that his little brother was in pain and he reached over the bed to press the morphine release button. Almost immediately, Greg's whimpers died down and the kid relaxed into the pillows once more.

"Better?" Nick smiled.

Greg nodded tiredly.

"How're you feeling, buddy?"

Greg grunted in a weak response, the meds really starting to kick in. "…H-Happened?" Thanks to the bruising of his throat, Greg's voice was dry and hoarse.

"Building came down on you…" Nick cleared his throat. "Barely made it out alive."

Greg swallowed fearfully, having trouble believing that he might've died. "I'll be okay, right?"

Nick bit the inside of his cheek. He wasn't sure if Greg would be able to walk. That was the doctor's field of expertise. Greg's spine had been fractured only a few days ago; no telling how fast it'd heal or if it had affected his walking.

"Nick?" Now Greg was getting scared. "I'll be okay, _right_?"

"I don't know, bud," Nick said sadly. "You were pretty banged up."

"Nick, how bad?" Greg's voice wavered and it nearly broke Nick's heart. He placed a hand on the kid's arm and squeezed it lightly.

"You got a spine fracture; they fixed it but…"

Tears formed in Greg's eyes. "I-I can't walk?"

"No, no, no, G. You'll be able to, but it's gonna be a long way to recovery…god I'm so sorry."

Greg looked away for a moment to compose himself.

"But you won't be alone, Greggo. I'll be with you every step of the way, alright?"

The young CSI looked back at the Texan, giving him a weak smile. "The whole way?"

"Damn straight, little brother. Damn straight."

**FIN**

**REVIEWS+PROMPTS!**

**Next: Lil Badger 101's prompt**


	7. Exhaustion

**Exhaustion**

_**For Lil Badger 101**_

_**Chapter info: **__**More ideas... How about under fed and sleep deprived?**_

He was tired…no, scratch that…he was over the top exhausted. Ecklie has been on his ass about getting some extra DNA samples finished…and there was a shit ton. He hadn't been home in three days, but of course no one on Grissom's team knew that. He wanted to become a CSI and CSI's didn't complain, they worked long hours, and kept themselves energized. Greg wiped his face and yawned for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. And to make things worse, he hadn't eaten much either. He had nearly a dozen cups of coffee, but he knew that wasn't good enough. With shaky hands, he zipped up the evidence bag that he was finished with and moved onto the next. He felt his stomach growl, but once again, he ignored it; if he wanted to get this stupid task done and go home, then he was just gonna have to push through it.

"Oh god, kill me now," he muttered with a hoarse voice. If he got sick, he was gonna end up killing himself. The young lab rat rubbed his sore eyes, blinked a few times and resumed working.

It didn't seem like it, but five hours went by and Greg realized it was time for the night shift to clock in. He couldn't let them see him like this or they'd start asking questions. Pushing himself up and waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass, Greg headed for the bathroom to freshen up. And when he looked in the mirror, he didn't like what he saw. Bags lined his sunken brown eyes; even his bags had bags. He was fucking 25 years old and he looked like he's aged twenty years. Sighing, he splashed cold water on his feverish face before drying it with a paper towel. If he could just get the last five DNA tests done, he could go home and sleep for a week. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him and he prayed that it would just go away; he had nothing to puke up and it would just hurt his stomach even more. But it didn't leave and he found himself hovering over the toilet, heaving out watery bile. Tears ran down his face as he pushed himself against the wall. He wanted this to be over. Greg stood there for a couple minutes, letting his breathing get back to normal before he washed out his mouth and went back to his lab. As he walked past the locker room, he saw Nick and Warrick joking around while Sara was rolling her eyes. And as much as he tried to pass without them noticing, Sara still had.

"Hey Greg," she smiled. He stopped in his tracks and turned around with a weak smile on his face.

"Hey Sara."

But the smile seemed to disappear on the woman's face. "Oh my god."

Warrick and Nick's laughter seemed to die down when they heard the shock and worry in Sara's voice. They both looked at the lab rat and were equally surprised.

"Greggo, you okay bud?" Nick said.

"Yeah…yeah I'm fine." He tried to stifle a yawn but it hadn't worked.

"You sure, man?" Warrick frowned. "You look exhausted."

"No, I'm good; just a bad night."

"How much sleep did you get?" Sara asked, getting closer to her friend. She knew something was seriously wrong and wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Four hours," Greg lied. And he was getting irritable with these twenty questions. "Seriously guys I'm fine. Since when did you guys care about me anyways?" With that, he left the three stunned CSI's and went back to his station.

Nick shared a look with Sara before they all went to the break room. They knew Greg was not fine; and how could he say that they didn't care about him? But they weren't gonna push; it look liked the kid had a lot of work to get done.

~+CSI+~

His vision was starting to get blurry every now and then and he could hear his heart beat loudly in his ears. Greg knew that definitely wasn't a good sign, but once again, he pushed himself through the dizziness. He was on his last DNA test and then he could finally leave. He wiped the sweat off his brow before looking into the microscope. It was so out of focus and even though he kept trying to fix the settings, it would stay the same. Sighing in frustration, Greg sat up and rubbed his growling stomach. He needed coffee to settle his hunger, but the longer he stalled, the longer it'd be for him to go home. He started shivering and he cursed inwardly; he was getting worse, but it was either his job or his health…and he'd rather have a job that he loved.

"Come on Greg, stop being a baby. You can do this."

He worked in silence for what seemed forever and in an hour, he was finally finished with the pile. He let out a shaky breath that ended with a cough; now he could g-

"Hey Greg," he heard Sara's voice behind him. _No, no, no, no;_ _please no more DNA tests._ He closed his eyes and prayed she was just checking up on him. "Warrick and I need you to run these hairs, fingerprints and saliva."

"And we need it ASAP," Warrick added, tossing the bags on the table.

Greg felt rage build up in his chest; something that he's never felt before. He rarely ever got angry but this was the last straw. He was always taken for granted and never given a break. He was done. He grabbed the DNA, turned around and shoved it back into Warrick's hands.

"You know what? If you want it done, then do it yourself."

"Greg-" Sara exclaimed, but was cut off.

"No, I'm done; maybe you guys should grow some brains and learn how to do this on your own, because news flash: I'm only one person." With that, the young lab rat pushed past them and stormed towards the bathroom. He was having a difficult time breathing and ranting did not help at all.

"What was that all about?" Sara said.

Warrick ground his teeth. "I don't know, but he's not getting away with yelling at us like that." The man followed the kid, ignoring Sara's shouts of protest.

He found Greg standing over the sink, but too angry to notice the shaking in the kid's arms or the heavy breathing.

"What the hell is your problem?" He shouted.

"Warrick-"

"No Sanders! Where do you get off thinking that you can yell at Sara and me like that?"

Greg looked up into the mirror at the taller man. He pushed away and faced Warrick. "Look-"

"_You_ look, kid; I don't know what the hell is going on with you, but you have no right to take it out on us! So when you get your act together, you can come apologize to us and do your work!" Warrick turned to open the door and Greg had to think fast to make the guy understand. He didn't want to bring this out in the open. But his world was swaying; he was seeing double of everything. Sounds began to fade out; he could feel his heart beating hard against his chest and his blood running in his ears. His legs began to go weak; he couldn't stay awake anymore. Greg was out before he hit the ground

The sickening clunk on the tile floor made Warrick step back into the bathroom before the door shut. What he saw made him panic…and he never panicked. Greg was in a crumpled heap on the ground, deathly pale and motionless. For a moment, it really looked like the kid was dead and it scared the hell out of him. He took two strides over to the lab-rat and fell to his knees, rolling him onto his back and checking his pulse. The kid's heart was beating way too fast and when Warrick placed a hand on Greg's forehead it was hot to the touch.

"What the hell?" Sara had been right; something had been wrong with the guy. And he should know better; Greg would never yell at them like that unless he was tired or upset. As a matter of fact, he wondered if Greg had lied to them; maybe he hasn't been sleeping at all.

He gently slapped the man's face. "Come on, buddy wake up." Greg's breathing was uneven and rapid and only then did he take a good look at the kid. He looked really skinny…er than normal; like he hadn't been eating at all. He looked up in worry before keeping one hand on the man's piping hot forehead and digging his cell phone out from his pocket.

_ "911, what's your emergency?"_

"I need an ambulance at the Crime Lab immediately. My colleague passed out most likely from exhaustion." He knew he sounded strangely calm, but he needed to be…for Greg. "His pulse is rapid and his breathing is uneven."

_ "Alright sir the ambulance is on its way; what's your name and your friend's name?"_

"Warrick Brown and his name is Greg Sanders."

_ "Okay, and is Mr. Sanders sweating at all?"_

Warrick frowned, but then looked down at Greg. As a matter of fact, he wasn't and it was strange, because the kid was like a damn radiator. "No…is that bad?"

_ "Very. I'm gonna need you to wet a cloth with cold water and place it on his forehead. If he's not sweating, it means he's severely dehydrated. The ambulance is almost to your destination; you think you'll be alright?"_

"Yeah, thanks." Warrick hung up and quickly got to his feet, wetting a paper towel before going back to the floor and placing it on Greg's forehead. There was still no reaction from him and it was starting to get scary. "Greg man, wake up already." God this was so fucking messed up. Maybe he should call Nick; the guy was more of a brother to Greg than he was.

_"Hey 'Rick, where did you go? We have-"_

"Nick, just shut up for a moment. Greg collapsed and he's not looking too hot. I need you to come to the bathroom."

On the other side of the line, as soon as Nick heard Greg collapsed, he was already running down the hall. He burst through the door and he saw his little brother motionless on the floor.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, but he's dehydrated."

"You called the ambulance right?"

"They're almost here."

"Damn," Nick hissed, snatching his hand from Greg's burning neck. "Hang on, Greggo; you're gonna be okay, just hang on."

Once the paramedics came, everything went by in a blur. Sara, Grissom, and Catherine- along with others- showed up as Greg got loaded onto the stretcher and wheeled outside.

"Warrick, what the hell did you do to him?" Sara said angrily. She assumed the man had done something to the kid since Warrick looked pretty pissed earlier. Had he hurt Greg?

"Nothing! I was just about to leave the bathroom when he passed out."

Sara sighed heavily as she followed Greg's stretcher outside and into the ambulance. She wasn't letting the kid be alone.

Grissom looked calm on the outside, but inside, he was pissed. He knew the reason for this and it was only one word. Ecklie. He saw the man at the door of his office, watching the commotion and almost looking worried.

"What were you having Greg Sanders do?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about; are you making him work overtime? If I check the log, will I see that he hasn't clocked out?"

"Don't talk down to me, Grissom. Sanders is perfectly capable of taking care of himself."

"Yes, I know he is…when you aren't holding him hostage in this place. He is a human being, Conrad, not a machine." With that, he went to the front desk to check Greg's log. But Nick had already beaten him there and the Texan's face was pale, but angry.

"He's been here for three days, Gris. He hasn't slept for _three_ days." Nick looked up at his supervisor. "I'm gonna fucking kill Ecklie. He had no right to do this to Greg."

"I know and you're right, but beating people up isn't gonna do anything. Bring Greg's leftover evidence to lockup and then head over to the hospital."

Letting the anger seep out, Nick nodded and went to Greg's lab. If Greg had been here for three days straight with no sleep, there was a possibility that the kid hadn't been eating either.

"God dammit, G; just pull through for us…for me. Don't give up on me."

~+CSI+~

Sara ran her hand up and down Greg's lukewarm arm as she watched him sleep. The poor kid; he was only twenty five; he didn't need to look like this. He didn't need to be in the hospital for malnutrition, exhaustion, dehydration and be put in a medically induced coma so he could rest without being disturbed. It was just plain wrong. A nasal cannula ran under Greg's nose and behind his ears and a square bandage was covering a gash he obtained when hitting his head on the floor.

"How is he?"

Sara looked up and saw Nick and Warrick standing in the doorway.

"Better; his breathing is back to normal, but he's been put in a coma."

"Son of a bitch," Nick growled. He so desperately wanted to punch Ecklie in his smug face. And he was a bit upset; Greg was his friend- his little brother- and the kid hadn't said anything to him…he wanted to know why.

"I'm sorry, Warrick, for thinking you had done something to Greg," Sara whispered, glancing at her bed ridden friend. "I should've known you would never do anything to hurt him."

"Don't worry about it, Sara…so is he gonna be okay?"

"Considering that he hasn't slept for three days straight and that all he had in his stomach was coffee?" Sara said. "Yeah. The doctors are giving him intravenous fluids and salts for the dehydration and resting will be good for him."

Nick went to sit beside his little brother, resting a hand on Greg's bicep. It was strange not to hear the kid blabbering away about something and though it got annoying, he really wished Greg would open his mouth and say something completely random. He let his hand run down the kid's arm before entwining his hand with Greg's. He should've known about this; they were freakin brothers and he completely saw right through it. It was obvious that Greg was tired so he should've confronted him about it.

"I'm so sorry, Greggo."

Sara smiled. "He'll be okay, Nick. He always bounces back." _Hopefully he'll bounce back this time._

~+CSI+~

Four days. Four days of Greg lying as still as a rock. The three CSI's never though they'd want Greg to talk their ears off. It was just weird. Nick and Warrick were getting coffee while Sara was reading a magazine. Grissom was at the lab talking with Ecklie and Catherine promised she'd be by in a while. Sara looked at Greg who was resting peaceful, his breathing deep and steady. The doctors had taken him off the coma inducing medicine, so now it was just the waiting game.

Suddenly, Sara heard the sheets rustle beside her and ditching the magazine, she turned to her young friend. He was finally waking up. His forehead was creased in confusion and a small groan escaped past his lips.

"Greg?" She placed her hand in his hair, curling the blonde strands around her fingers. "Greg, can you hear me?"

Without opening his eyes, Greg spoke softly. "S-Sara?"

The dark haired woman squeezed his hand encouragingly. "Right here."

Greg's eyes sluggishly flickered open, looking around the room before landing on Sara. She smiled at him warmly, stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

"Hey there."

The lab rat grunted softly as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and weakly pushed himself up a little. "W-Where am I?"

"The hospital; you passed out at the lab. Do you remember anything?"

Greg's face screwed up in thought, but he eventually gave up. "No…not really. The last thing I remember was going to the movies with you, Nick and Warrick."

The vanished smile from Sara's face. "Greg…that was nearly a week ago; way before you passed out."

Greg frowned and it remained silent as he tried to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, Nick and Warrick stepped into the room and when they saw Greg awake, their smiles broadened.

"Hey," Nick smiled as he gently patted Greg on the shoulder. "How're you doing, bud?"

Greg shrugged weakly. "Still kinda tired…and confused."

"You gave us a pretty good scare," Warrick said.

"Yeah man," Nick added. "Why didn't you tell us Ecklie was riding your ass? We would've stood up for you or at least helped you."

"I just…I guess I just wanted to show everyone that I can handle things like that; that I'm not weak. I didn't think you guys would care anyways."

"G, we care about you a lot; how could you say that we don't?"

"Yeah kid," Warrick spoke. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

"We're a family, Greg," Sara said, placing a hand on Greg's. "And we take care of each of each other no matter what."

Greg smiled. "Thanks guys."

Nick ruffled Greg's hair, earning a dirty look from the kid. No one was to mess with his hair, but Nick did it just to annoy Greg sometimes. "And if Ecklie starts to bother you again with that type of shit, you let us know. We'll take care of him."

"You're not gonna kill him are you?"

Nick thought about it for a moment. "I don't know yet; it's possible. I am a CSI and I know what _not_ to leave behind."

Greg chuckled before laying back into his pillows. "I didn't know you were a closeted killer, Nick."

"Well, that's our family, Greggo. Mysterious and strange. I bet you didn't know that Sara told me she has a tat-" before Nick could finish, he was punch in the arm by the brunette. Greg's eyes were wide in curiosity.

"Nick, I am going to kill you," Sara growled.

Warrick frowned. "Hey, I want to know; you never told me."

While the three were bickering, Greg smiled. He guessed he was cared about; and even when he missed his real family back home, he had another one right here…and he'd never doubt that again.

**FIN**

**REVIEWS+PROMPTS!**


	8. Hit & Run

**Hit & Run**

**Sorry for taking so long with this chapter; It's been extremely busy and graduation from high school is just weeks away (4 weeks to be exact) Anyways, this chapter is super long so enjoy! This is for EarthtoAlex!**

_**Chapter Info: **__I'd like to see Greg involved in a hit & run while at a crime scene by a suspect trying to flee._

"Find anything yet, Greg?" Sara asked snapping a picture of their victim. The blonde was searching for any trace of evidence, though the sidewalk didn't seem to be their primary; they both figured it was a body dump.

"Nada." Greg stood up from where he was kneeling on the ground and stretched. Biting the inside of cheek, his scanned the area carefully. There was no one around except for him, Sara, Brass and some other officers…and the dead body of course. There was also not one trace of evidence and it sucked. He's eyes caught a nearby alley and decided to go check it out; couldn't hurt, right?

"I'll be right back," he said to Sara, pointing to the alleyway. "I'm gonna go down here."

Sara nodded. "Alright, be careful."

"Aren't I always?" Greg smirked before disappearing between the two buildings. Slowly, so he wouldn't miss anything, Greg walked pretty far down the dimly lit alley, looking all around him for anything out of the ordinary. There wasn't much besides a dumpster, old beer bottles, and a broken down car; so there was basically nothing to go on. Maybe he'd find something in the trash that would help their case; going over, he opened the lid and peered inside, shining the flashlight over the smelly contents. He prayed to heaven almighty that he didn't have to end up going dumpster diving. He'd never get the smell out no matter how many showers he took. And he'd never hear the end of it from Nick and Warrick.

While he was preoccupied with looking for evidence, he never noticed the man hiding out in the car a little ways down by the other opening of the alley. He pushed himself from slouching down in the seat and ran a hand through his spiked up hair.

"Shit." Alex Masters cursed. He was so close to getting out of there. If he drove backwards, the stupid kid would notice and where would that get him? Jail, that's where. He glared holes at the pig who was searching for whatever he could find in the dumpster…and then he remembered…he had tossed the bloody rope he used to tie up the girl he murdered and it was at the bottom of the can.

"Fuck, I am so screwed." Now there was only one way to take care of this. He didn't care if he got put in jail for hitting a guy- he'd only be put away for a few years. Doing this would hopefully get everyone's attention away from the dumpster.

~+CSI+~

Greg groaned in frustration; no way was he gonna find anything without jumping in…well, he guessed it came with the job. Washing a hand down his face, he packed away the flashlight, getting ready to plunge into the nastiness. All of sudden, he heard a soft motor beside him and he looked up to the supposedly broken down car driving towards him. He frowned; the alley was small and if the car didn't stop, he'd end up getting hit…surely the guy behind the wheel would stop, right? But somehow he knew it wouldn't and he started to run back towards the opening. And as he did, he completely beat himself up; he was so stupid for not checking the car first. _Idiotic move Greg._ He couldn't run fast enough and the exit still seemed so far away; this person's intent was clear. For him to be dead. Maybe it was their suspect in the murder/body dump. Maybe-

He suddenly felt the front of the car brush up against the back of his legs and before he knew it, he was flying in the air. His floating sensation didn't last very long as his body slammed onto the pavement. Immediately, he started choking on his own blood and the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Through his blurry vision, he saw the car continue driving down the alley and turn onto the street. His head was pounding and he could barely grasp onto consciousness. Greg just prayed that Sara would find him before it was too late.

~+CSI+~

Sara looked up from her camera as she heard tires squealing loudly. Without warning, a maroon Subaru peeled out of the alley, barely missing her before booking it down the street.

"Whoa, what the-" And at first she thought nothing of it…until she remembered that Greg had gone down that alley. "Shit." Ditching the evidence, the brunette ran over to the entrance of the side street, hoping that nothing bad happened; that Greg was okay…but they were never that lucky. Bad things always seemed to happen to them; and what she saw when she looked down the alley made her heart stop, causing her to choke on her breath.

"No…Jim! Stop that car, it just hit Greg!" And she didn't even need to look; the sirens were on and the sound faded with distance. Sara bolted down the path, breathing in a panic as she closed in on Greg's motionless form. Pulling out her phone, Sara pressed three numbers frantically.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

"This is CSI Sidle, I need an ambulance at my location ASAP; we have a CSI down! And hurry!" Without waiting to hear a response, Sara threw her phone to the ground before falling to her knees beside her friend.

"Oh god, Greg." He was all bloody and a few of his limbs looked abnormally bent. "Greg." She pressed a finger to his neck and sighed in relief; he was alive, but for how long?

"Greg? Come on, wake up." The kid was wheezing badly and blood was dripping out of his slack mouth. It somewhat reminded her of the beating a few months ago; how swollen and in pain he looked. Gently she wove her fingers through his blonde hair, hoping to get a response.

"S-Sar…?" Greg coughed violently.

"Hey, take it easy; I'm here, I'm right here."

Greg's eyes flickered open and Sara could see the fear and pain shining bright in them…plus evidence of a concussion. He coughed again, bright red blood splattering onto his pale lips.

"Help's coming, don't worry; you'll be alright."

"H-Hurts."

"What does? Greg, tell me," she said a little bit forcefully as Greg's eyes started drooping close. Gently, she cupped his cut up face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Ev-Everything…god…I can't breathe!"

"Calm down Greg, it'll be okay. I promise it'll be okay."

Greg's hand weakly grasped her small wrist as tears slowly trickled out of the corner of his eyes, choking out a sob. Sara's heart was breaking, tears of her own falling onto her cheeks. Greg couldn't die, he just couldn't; she didn't know how they'd be able to cope with that. And Nick…oh god he'd be devastated.

"Greg, you have to keep holding on; hold on okay? Keep fighting for me…for Nick.

"Nick?"

"Yes Nick; don't do this to him. You're his little brother…and you're my big brother. So please don't give up."

"T-Tired, Sar."

"I know, but just wait until the paramedics okay?"

Greg sluggishly blinked up at the woman and Sara smiled encouragingly. "I'm right here, just keep those eyes open…maybe I'll kiss you if you stay awake."

Greg laughed softly. "It took this just to get us to make out? Maybe I should've gotten hit by a car ages ago."

Sara smiled weakly, stroking Greg's curly blonde hair continuously. "It'll be okay, I promise."

He was exhausted and he could feel himself drifting back into the darkness…and he knew that if he closed his eyes he wouldn't be waking up again. However, it sure beat suffering like this. He'd hate to have to leave Sara…he'd hate to have to leave everyone he loved, but his body was shutting down quickly.

"Greg? Greg come on, keep your eyes open!"

Sara's face looked like she was at the end of a tunnel; her face was distorted and voice sounded a million miles away.

"I'm sor…" but he was too weak. His chest was too tight and all he could taste was blood. Before he knew it, he was being dragged back into oblivion…for good.

"Greg…Greg! Please don't!" Sara cried.

The brunette watched in devastation as Greg's eyes closed, his chest stilled and the feeble grip on her wrist slackened. And as she sat helplessly on the ground, watching her best friend die, she finally heard the sweet sound of the ambulance…but it might've been too late.

"You hear that Greg?" Sara sniffed, still stroking Greg's face. "You'll be alright, just hold on…Greg please hold on."

~+CSI+~

Nick took a bite of his roast beef sandwich as Warrick strolled into the break room. They were almost finished their case and all they had to wait for was some trace evidence and ballistics. Nothing like a good lunch to pass the time.

"Hey Rick," Nick's voice was muffled with the food in his mouth.

"Didn't your mother teach you not to talk with your mouth full," Warrick chuckled, grabbing his own lunch from the fridge before sitting down and flicking on the TV. "So you think this guy-" But Warrick trailed off as he looked up at the screen with a laugh.

_"…high speed pursuit down 34__th__ avenue of a suspect in a recent college student rape/murder."_

Nick shook his head with a smile as the two watched dozens of LAPD police cars racing after a single maroon car. Typical; they always thought they could get away.

"Just give it up!" He shouted at the TV.

_"This just in; it seems that not only this person is a murder suspect but committed a hit and run of a CSI not long before the chase."_

Both smiles vanished, replaced with colorless faces. One of them; someone they knew was hurt…or worse. Nick stood from his chair, ditching the sandwich as Warrick turned up the volume.

_"Here's Mark Weathers with the coverage."_

The scene changed showing an older man standing in front of police tape, more police cars, and an ambulance. _"Genevieve, I'm standing by the scene of the accident where apparently a CSI was hit after trying to look for evidence in the alley way._

"Come on, who is it?" Nick muttered worriedly. He pulled out his phone, ready to call Sara or Greg to make sure they were okay.

_ "There's no news on their condition but let's see if we can get closer."_

Mark disappeared from the camera as it zoomed in past the tape. Nick's heart beat hard against his chest, clutching his phone so tight there was a possibility it would break. And what he saw made him choke on his breath. There were three paramedics surrounding a still form along with other people in the way and the Texan was getting agitated. But when he noticed a familiar brunette standing off to the side, pale face and hands covered in blood, his dread was growing. His breathing intensified when his eyes trailed to the familiar shoes peeking out from behind a paramedic and he didn't need to look twice to know it was Greg.

"Oh god…no."

"What? What is it Nick?"

"It's Greg."

"Shit." And they could hear shouts coming from the EMT's that really scared the two men.

_"Still no pulse; we need to keep breathing for him and get him to the hospital now or he'll never make it."_

Nick felt weak; his best friend was practically _dead_ right now. The paramedics had to help him breathe. He quickly dialed Sara's number as he ran out of the lab and to his car, Warrick right on his tail.

_"H-Hello?"_ A female voice sniffed.

"Sara! What the hell happened? I was watching the news and-"

_"It's Greg…he was hit by a car. It's not looking good, Nick."_

"No…Sara, he's gotta be okay." Nick revved the engine and headed for where Greg and Sara's crime scene was. "He won't leave us, he's too stubborn."

_"I know he is…but it might not be enough this time. Meet us at the hospital but he might not make it."_

"Dammit!" Nick slammed his phone shut as he punched the steering wheel. Greg was his little brother; he couldn't lose him. Not after they were so close a few months ago.

"Nick?" Warrick asked as Nick turned the car around and sped down another street. He watched his best friend's face contort on anger, praying the guy wouldn't get them in a car accident.

"He'll be okay…he's gotta be okay." Nick pressed on the gas, not caring if he'd get in trouble and wanting to get to the hospital as fast as he could. _Please be okay Greggo._

~+CSI+~

Nick burst into the waiting room and scanned the area for Sara. He immediately spotted her standing impatiently by some double doors. She looked like she'd been crying and her hands were caked with dry blood.

"Sara!" Nick shouted as he jogged up to her. "Where's Greg? Is he okay?"

"I don't know; he just went into surgery. Nick-"

The Texan held up his hand, cutting Sara off. "Don't. Just…he will make it; I know Greg. He doesn't give up easily." Before the brunette could say another word, Nick turned away, crossed his arms and stared fixedly at the doors that Greg's doctor would come out and tell them that everything would be okay. Greg was going to live; he was gonna make sure of that.

They all stood around for hours, pacing worriedly and willing the doors to burst open. They wanted- they _needed_- to know if Greg was okay. There would be no telling what would happen if they lost the kid. But Nick knew one thing: he didn't think he'd be able to keep working at the lab if he lost his younger brother. Things just wouldn't be the same without him. Nick chewed his bottom lip, glancing up at the doors and at the same time, they swung open revealing a tired looking doctor in bright blue scrubs. Instantly, Nick went up to him, demanding answers.

"Is he okay?"

"Nicky," Warrick warned, trying to pull the Texan back a little.

"Are you here for Gregory Sanders?"

"Yes. Is he…please tell me he's not…"

"He's not dead; however it was a very close call."

Nick sighed, washing a hand down his face. "Thank god."

"Why don't we go sit down…?"

"Nick Stokes; and this is Sara Sidle and Warrick Brown. We're from the crime lab."

"Ah, Mr. Stokes; it seems that you're listed as Gregory's next of kin. That makes things a whole lot easier."

As they went to go sit, Nick mused over the thing he just heard. Since when had he been Greg's next of kin? He wasn't mad or anything- actually he was glad he didn't have to wait for Grissom or Greg's mom.

"How is he doctor…?" Warrick began as they all sat down.

"Dr. Michaels and it was pretty touch and go for a while; it still is actually. We had to shock his heart twice on the table; nearly lost him for five minutes."

"Oh my god," Nick exhaled shakily, putting his head in his hands. Greg had _died._ They really almost lost him…for good.

"Unfortunately, that's not all; he obtained a left fractured tibia and a clean break of his right ulna and radius. His spleen had been pierced causing it to rupture so we had to remove it in order to save his life. He can still live without it, but he's at more risk for infections. Greg also got a severe concussion and as of now there is no brain activity present."

"Wait," Sara said, leaning forward in her seat. "You mean he's in a coma?"

"That or worse; he was dead for nearly five minutes, there's no telling what the lack of oxygen could've done to his brain."

"Son of a bitch," muttered Warrick, scratching his hair.

"We'll keep monitoring his brainwaves and best case scenario it's only a coma."

"Is there anything else?" Sara choked out, glancing worriedly at Nick who was strangely quiet.

"Six of his ribs were broken, one of which penetrated his right lung; we've repaired it, but we have him on a ventilator since his body is too weak to let him breathe on his own. Other than that, there are only the major and minor bruises over 75% of his body along with some cuts on his face and arms."

"What…" Nick cleared his dry throat. "What are his chances?"

"Like I said, it's pretty touch and go at the moment; there is a 65% chance that things will go downhill mostly due to his splenectomy where he could get life-threatening infections and lack of oxygen in the brain. We'll just have to wait until he wakes up, but we'll do everything we can to keep him alive."

The three CSI's remained silent, thinking over the shit that Greg was going through.

"Are we able to go sit with him?" Sara asked hopefully. Greg didn't need to be alone in this; he was probably scared out of his mind right now.

"As of right now, no; his body is weak and is already fighting off a powerful infection. Once we get rid of the 104° fever that he has, we will let you know when he can have visitors." Dr. Michaels paused and looked at the three people in front of him with a sad smile. "However, I guess I can let you see him if you want."

Nick perked up and blurted out. "Yes!"

Dr. Michaels stood up with a sympathetic smile as the CSI's stood as well. "Alright, he's getting settled in his room right now, but I'll have a nurse come and fetch you when he's ready." With that, the CSI's all shook the doctor's hand before they watched him disappear back behind the doors. Nick then collapsed back into the chair, wiping his face with both hands and letting out a shaky sigh.

"Shit."

"He's gonna be alright, Nicky," Sara whispered comfortingly as she sat down and rubbed the Texan's arm. "Just like you said."

"I'm not so sure anymore, Sar, it seems so much worse than what I thought it would be." Nick tried to hold in his tears by rubbing his eyes, but it was barely helping. "We can't lose him."

"We won't; like you said, Greg is stubborn and he won't quit."

"Yeah man," Warrick said, resting his hand on Nick's back. "And you know how the kid is, he always like to leave us hanging."

Nick cracked a smile. It was true; when Greg was a lab rat the kid always had them guessing. It usually pissed him off, but that was Greg Sanders for you. Even now Greg did it once in a while, but now the guy so much more serious…the job had changed him drastically…and he actually really missed the old Greg- as annoying as he'd been at times- the kid had made him laugh during depressing times.

"Nick?" The Texan looked up and noticed Sara and Warrick staring at him in concern while a nurse in light pink scrubs stood in front of them.

"Are you all ready to see Mr. Sanders?"

Nick pushed himself from the chair and nodded. As they all followed the nurse to Greg's room, they shared worried glances, terrified at how Greg would look when they saw him. And it seemed like forever, but they finally stopped in front of a large ICU room that Greg resided in.

"Here we are," the nurse spoke. "I'm sorry you can't go in, but I'm sure he'll be better soon so you can." With that, the woman left leaving the three CSI's staring at the small unconscious form in the bed.

"God Greggo," Nick whispered. The kid looked horrible- and that was probably an understatement. Nearly half of Greg's body was covered in bandages and parts that weren't showed bruised skin. A disgusting tube ran out from Greg's mouth and to a large machine that was breathing for the younger man. A thin sheet was brought up over Greg's body and tucked underneath his armpits so they weren't able to see the bandages on his lower half, but there were so many wires running out from his arms and from beneath the blankets. Another bandage wrapped around Greg's head so they could no longer see the unruly blonde hair they were so used to. And when they looked up to the monitor, the brain activity line was flat and his temperature was extremely high. Nick knew if that they were in the room, it'd probably be baking in there from Greg giving off extreme body heat.

"Oh god Greg, why'd it have to be you?" Nick said sadly, wishing that he could just go in there and hold his kid brother's hand- to make sure that he was really there. But he couldn't and it was killing him. His hand fisted in anger as he thought of the guy that did this to his little brother. Clenching his jaw, he turned around and headed for the nearest exit so he wouldn't be taking his rage out on his friends or the window of Greg's room.

"Nick? Nick!" Warrick shouted. "Where are you going?"

"I need some air," he muttered with his back turned to his colleagues. In seconds, he disappeared around the corner, leaving Warrick and Sara shocked. All of a sudden, the silence was broken by the shrill ring of a cellphone. When Sara realized it was hers, she dug it out of her pocket and quickly answered it.

"Sidle."

_"Sara, how's Sanders?"_ It was Jim.

"It's really bad; it's hard to tell if he'll make it or not."

_"He's a strong kid, I'm sure he will…what about Nicky?"_

Sara looked to the area where Nick had disappeared and sighed heavily. "He's upset."

_"I'm not surprised; he cares a lot for the kid."_

"So did you catch the guy?"

_"Yeah, here's the thing: he's dead."_

"What?"

Warrick raised his eyebrows as Sara's voice went two octaves higher.

_"Bastard flipped his car, dead on impact."_

This was great news, but Sara was pretty sure Nick wanted to kill the man himself. "Good."

_"You could say that again. Just inform Nicky, because I know he'll be happy."_

"Alright, thanks Jim." With that, Sara hung up and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"What was that about?" Warrick questioned, glancing at Greg's still form.

"That was Brass; the guy that hit Greg flipped his car and died on impact."

"Well, that's good news."

"Guess I'm gonna have to tell Nick," Sara sighed.

"Why don't I go, you stay here and keep Greg company even if we can't sit with him."

Sara smiled weakly and watched Warrick follow Nick's path before she turned back to Greg. "Please be okay, Greg; you have to win, don't let that bastard win."

~+CSI+~

Warrick searched the hallways for his Texan friend; the guy was gonna be happy that Greg's attacker was dead. He went through the sliding doors and found Nick sitting on a bench, his head between his knees. The guy had been so upset that he was on the verge of passing out. Sighing sadly, Warrick walked over and sat down.

"You okay man?"

Nick let out a noisy breath. "Y-Yeah, I think so. It's just…just seeing him like that; it shocked me, you know?"

"Yeah," the older man said simply, looking at the passersby.

"He doesn't deserve this, Rick. I swear to god when I get my hands on the bastard who did this, he's fucking dead."

"Nick, you can't."

"Are you gonna stop me? Turn me in?"

"No. You can't because he's already dead."

Nick looked up at Warrick with wide eyes. "What? When?"

"Brass called Sara; told her the guy flipped his car and died on impact."

"Really?" Nick's mouth twitched upwards.

Warrick nodded with a smile. "Greggo won."

The smile on the Texan's face disappeared.

"What is it, man?"

"Nothing…did Greg really win? I mean, the doctor said there was a high chance Greg might not make it through this."

"And you really believe that?" Warrick pursed his lips.

"Yes…no…I don't know. I mean you saw how bad he looked. This is so much worse than the beating, and G still didn't need this."

Warrick smiled sadly while placing a hand on Nick's back. "He'll be okay, Nicky; I know he'll be."

"Man, I hope you're right."

"Aren't I always?"

Nick scoffed a laughed causing Warrick to smile.

"Why don't we go get something to eat while we wait?"

"Yeah…okay." With that, the two men got off the bench and went to the nearest café while they waited impatiently to go see their brother.

**Three and a Half Days Later**

"Nick, Warrick, Sara?" Dr. Michaels said as he stepped into the spare room he let them all use. They wouldn't leave when he had suggested them to and honestly like looked like crap. He didn't need to be admitting three more people into the hospital.

The three CSI's looked up from reading magazines and sipping probably their tenth coffee in three days. Their faces looked eager yet tired and they were hoping that this was it; that Greg was finally ready to have visitors now. They had informed Catherine and Grissom and the two had tried to get them all to go home, but it was pointless; they were staying by their brother and there was obviously nothing they could do about it.

"You can go sit with Greg if you'd like," Dr. Michaels gave a wide smile as Nick jumped from his chair. The other two followed but the doctor put up a hand. "Only one at a time, though. You don't want to crowd him."

Like little kids, they groaned but decided Nick should be the one to see Greg first. Sara placed a comforting hand on Nick's arm. "Go; we'll be here when you're done."

Smiling weakly, Nick followed the doctor back to Greg's room quietly, thinking over and over in his head what he was gonna say to the kid. Once they reached the door, Dr. Michaels smiled. "Just press the call button if anything happens, but I don't want you in there more than an hour; you need to get your rest, son."

Nick nodded, but wasn't really listening; he just wanted to be with his brother. Once the doctor started walking down the hall, Nick took a deep breath and stepped towards the door, pausing a second as they slid open with a soft whoosh. From there, all he could hear were the sounds of Greg's mechanical breathing and the steady rhythm of his beating heart on the monitor. Cautiously, he walked over and stared down at Greg; he was so small and sick looking. He just wanted the kid to wake up. Sighing, knowing that it probably wouldn't be happening for a while, Nick dragged a chair over next to the bed and fell into it with a heavy sigh.

"Oh Greg, what am I gonna do with you, buddy?" Nick washed a hand down his face before actually looking the smaller man over. The bruises on his face had faded into yellow and green blotches on his pale, clammy skin. Dark circles underlined his sunken eyes and he seemed to have lost so much weight. Nick reached out, grabbing Greg's skinny fingers and squeezing them tightly.

"I'm here, Greggo; you just gotta wake up so I know you will be okay…please." He placed his other hand on top of Greg's sweaty forehead and stroked it with his thumb. The fever was starting to go down a little, but not as much as he wanted it to.

"You don't have to be scared, kiddo I-" Nick stopped in midsentence as he swore he felt some pressure in his hand. "Greg?" He looked down at the hand in his, watching it intently. And then it happened again; Greg's fingers moved. Nick's heart raced as a smile formed on his face.

"Hey man, can you hear me?"

Greg squeezed his hand again. _Thank you God!_

And then everything went from good to bad in a second. The monitors went haywire and Greg was suddenly choking on the breathing tube; immediatly, nurses and Dr. Michaels came rushing in and he was pushed out. He was being forced to watch from the outside once again.

"Greggo, please don't do this to me." After that, he couldn't watch what was going on and he settled for pacing, keeping his gaze on the pristine tiled floor.

"Mr. Stokes?"

The Texan stopped and looked up worriedly. "Is Greg okay? What happened?"

Dr. Michaels smiled. "He's doing fine; exhausted, but fine. He started fighting the tube which means he can finally breathe on his own. It's a miracle, I didn't think he'd last this long. However, I still want to run some tests in a while to check his brain and make sure nothing was affected when he died."

"Alright, can I go back in with him?"

"Of course; a nurse will be in shortly to bring him to his tests, but it shouldn't take longer than twenty minutes."

Without being told twice, Nick hurriedly returned back to his post by Greg's bedside. The kid had fallen back asleep, but it made Nick so happy to see that Greg was breathing on his own; that he was getting better.

"That's it bud, just keep fighting."

"S-Sara?" A hoarse voice rang out, surprising Nick.

"No, it's Nick; I'm here, buddy, I'm right here."

"Nick?" Greg echoed, his face scrunching up weakly.

Nick smiled at this and sighed. "Yeah…now come on, open those eyes." It took a minute, but finally Greg's eyes flickered open as he squeezed Nick's hand. He looked around in confusion before he landed on the Texan.

"Hey buddy," Nick grinned.

Greg scrunched his face up before he coughed harshly from the sore throat he got from the breathing tube. Immediately, Nick helped the man sit up straight before grabbing a cup of water and placing the edge on Greg's chapped lips. After a few small sips, Greg weakly pushed the cup away and laid back down in fatigue. Smirking, Nick rubbed Greg's arm gently as he waited for things to get caught up.

"How are you doing, G?"

Greg cleared his throat. "Tired…confused…wh-what happened?"

"Well, what do you remember?"

"Um…" Greg licked his lips and tried to sit up but only resulted in him being in pain.

"Hey, easy kiddo. Let me help."

"N-No, I'm fine…can do it myself."

Nick put his hands up with a smile. He was proud that his little brother wanted to prove himself all the time. "Alright, alright." He watched as Greg struggled, but succeeded in pushing himself higher onto the pillows. By the time he was finished, the kid was out of breath, his chest heaving.

"You alright?"

"Y-yeah…yeah…I'm good…just need to…catch my breath."

After waiting a couple seconds, Greg reopened his eyes and frowned. "I remember taking evidence…from a crime scene. I think…dammit, why can't I remember?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Nick comforted. "It's alright, that's good."

Greg groaned and wiped his face shakily with his uninjured hand. "What happened to me?"

"You were hit by the suspect fleeing the scene you were at."

"Hit? As in hit by a car?"

"Yeah…it was touch and go for a while, but…I'm really glad you're okay; I thought we were gonna lose you, G."

Greg smiled faintly before a thought suddenly hit him. It was a memory…well part of one. His eyes widened in fear as he looked at the Texan. "Nick…there was a rope."

"What?" Nick leaned forward in his chair, seeing that Greg was starting to have a panic attack. "What are you talking about?"

"I remember…Nick we have to go."

"Go? Go where, G?"

Greg grunted as he tried to push himself out of bed. The workaholic in him needed to get this rope; he needed to catch this guy.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa hold on there, cowboy. You are not fit to go anywhere except the bathroom. Now tell me about this rope."

"I remember finding it in the dumpster; we have to get it back before the suspect returns to destroy it." Greg began hyperventilating and resisting against Nick's hold.

"Greg. Greg, stop! You're gonna hurt yourself; the guy isn't going anywhere anytime soon."

"W-Why? Did you catch him?"

"No…he's dead; flipped his car and died immediately."

"He's dead?"

"I swear on my life, Greggo. When have I lied to you?"

Greg exhaled shakily in relief.

"But I promise I'll call Catherine now and tell her what you found."

Greg's eyes started to close as the adrenaline began to wear off. "Good."

"Get some sleep, bud. Sara and Warrick will be in later."

When he heard no response, he chuckled and brought the sheet up to Greg's shoulders. With a small smile, Nick exhaled heavily and he leaned back in his chair, knowing he could sleep peacefully now that he knew his little brother was safe and okay. He almost lost the kid and he was gonna make damn sure this would never happen again. His job was to protect Greg; protect his family.

**FIN**

**Finally! Got that one finished! Now onto the next one and expect another chapter for Buried Alive! :) I need more prompts btw! REVIEWS!**


	9. Replacement

**Replacement**

**This is going to be a two part story, because it's such an awesome prompt and I want you to suffer a cliff-hanger! Mwahahaha! **

_**Chapter Info: For EarthtoAlex: **__**Somebody is after Nick and they try to kidnap him but grab Greg by mistake. They realize they could use this as a way to hurt Nick worse than if they had managed to grab him in the first place as he would be forced to watch them hurting Greg. They could send videos or submit a live feed telling him it's all his fault he's there in the first place. It could include physically hurt Greg and emotionally hurt Nick :)  
**_

"Nick Stokes, got it?"

"Got it, sir."

"Good. He should be at the crime scene right now, so I want you to grab him as quick as you can without being seen and bring him back here. He'll be wearing one of those stupid black vests."

The two men nodded at their boss before turning to leave the abandoned warehouse. They all loathed Nick Stokes for arresting their best friend and brother; they had been a team and now they'd been torn apart. Now it was time for payback; the Texan wasn't even gonna know what hit him. Matt Myers smirked as he heard the rumble of the car disappear before he got up, getting ready for their guest. This was gonna be so much fun.

Meanwhile, Nick and Greg were at a simple homicide crime scene in the middle of nowhere basically. A news reporter had gone missing while doing a segment on her own and her mangled body had just turned up near an empty cabin in the woods. It was a bit sketchy, but it was in the job description. It had also been a month and a half since Warrick was murdered and Nick was still mourning…and so was Greg, but right now Nick needed the most support. Even if Nick had pushed him away countless times in the past week, Greg would still be there when the guy was ready to talk.

"You find anything yet, Greg?"

"Not yet."

"Well, look harder; there's gotta be something. Warrick would've found something by now."

Greg was a little hurt, if not, angry. Nick had been doing that a lot lately: comparing him to Warrick and it was getting on his nerves.

"Would you stop doing that?" Greg stood up from the evidence and glared at the Texan

"What?" Nick said lazily, not even looking up from his notebook.

"Comparing me to him; I'm not perfect…but if you want him here so bad, then maybe you should just wish I was killed instead of him. After all, I'm nothing to all of you, right?"

Nick frowned. _Where the hell had that come from?_ "Greg-"

"Just forget about it; I'm gonna look over here."

"Greg!"

But the younger CSI kept walking away, leaving Nick looking after him guiltily. He hadn't meant what he said to the kid. In fact, as soon as he opened his mouth, he instantly regretted it. Greg was grieving as well and he'd been too blind and stupid to see that. He almost went after the guy, but decided Greg needed time to cool down. Sighing sadly, he went to go take more pictures inside the cabin.

~+CSI+~

"Are you sure that's him?" Johnny said, setting down the binoculars and ducking back behind the trees.

"Black vest: that's what Myers said," Nate replied.

"Alright, so when do we strike?"

Nate scanned the area. There was one police car, but it was too far to see where their target was. There was no one else around, so now was the time to grab the guy.

"Now."

They had parked the car out of sight and now they were silently trudging through the leaves, closing in on the Stokes person. Johnny pulled a black sack out of his coat pocket and they started sneaking up behind the small person. The kid was scrawny so this was gonna be a piece of cake.

Greg was still seething from Nick's comment and occupied with finding more evidence that he never even heard the footsteps behind him. In seconds, a bag was put over his head and fastened tightly around his neck. His screams were muffled and movements restricted; when he tried to reach for the bag, one person's arms were tightly wrapped around his chest while another pair of arms was holding his legs. He tried to scream again, but a hand was suddenly clamped over his mouth. He gagged a little as the sack material was pushed into his throat.

_"Try that again and I'll shoot you in the head,"_ one man said.

_"This guy is a fighter,"_ another man laughed. What the hell was going on? He tried to yell Nick's name, but he could barely breathe inside the sack. It seemed like they were walking forever and Greg prayed Nick had found out he was missing. He was exhausted now and he realized he was screwed; whatever these guys wanted, they were gonna get because he was weak. '_Warrick never would've let this happen to him,' _Nick's voice echoed in his head. And the voice was right. He was a screw-up and he should've been the one to die. A tear made its way down his cheek as he sniffed, listening to the crunching of the leaves under both kidnapper's feet.

They finally stopped and he heard the creak of a door. How could they have not seen a car out here? Roughly, he was thrown into what felt like the trunk. His breathing was becoming more erratic and he knew he'd never survive, especially with the bag on his head.

_"Don't you think that'll kill him?"_ Someone said. _"Our asses will be handed to us if we kill him."_

_"You're right…but we can't let him see us."_

_"Here."_

Greg's heart was hammering in his chest; what were they planning on doing to him? He waited for a long minute when one of the guys suddenly wrenched his hands behind his back and tied his wrists together tightly. His hands tingled and he grunted, trying to get them loose.

_ "Wow, this Nick guy doesn't look very strong."_

Nick? Why were they calling him…oh god, they were supposed to be kidnapping Nick. He was about to say something, but then he realized: he would make the Texan's wish come true. He should've been the one to die, not Warrick…so him being killed it is then. He stopped struggling and without warning, something slammed the side of his head. White flashed in front of his eyes as he felt his brain rattle in his skull.

"_Do it again, I don't think it worked…and put some muscle into it Nate."_

_"Alright, alright."_

The next blow to the head made him nauseous and before he knew it, darkness was claiming him. Nick would be happy; Nick would be glad that he was in his rightful place.

Johnny and Nate grinned as the body of the CSI went limp. Tearing bag off the kid's head, they checked to make sure he was still breathing.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Johnny chuckled. "Now, let's get this little runt back to Myers and maybe we'll get a good reward." They both looked down at their captive who was already deathly pale and had blood seeping from his head wound before slamming the trunk shut and getting into the car. They drove away without anyone noticing.

Just as they disappeared, Nick stepped out of the cabin with a frustrated sigh. He hadn't found much inside, but hopefully the prints- as limited as they were- would get them something. Maybe Greg had found something by now…but he was awfully quiet. If the kid had found something, he would've heard something by now. He walked around the building to where he last saw Greg, frowning worriedly. His gut was telling him something was wrong.

"Greg? Greg did you…oh shit." The scene he saw before him made his heart sink. Greg's things were strewn out all over the place, yet the kid was nowhere to be seen. It's not like he'd wandered off, because Greg knew better than to leave evidence lying around. Nick scanned the area frantically; this really couldn't be happening right now. It really couldn't. They had just lost Warrick, they couldn't lose Greg too. _He _couldn't lose Greg; the man was like his little brother.

"Greg!"

Silence.

Nick ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly before grabbing his cellphone and dialing Grissom. He was supposed to be protecting the kid but instead he was just putting him down; some big brother he was. Nick pressed his fingers to his eyes and breathed through his nose. God, this was all his fucking fault!

_"Grissom."_

"Gris, we have a huge problem…Greg's been kidnapped."

~+CSI+~

_"You fucking idiots! This isn't Stokes; it's one of his friends- Greg Sanders!"_

_ "Well, you never told us exactly what he looked like, you said black vest."_

As he was starting to come around, he heard loud voices coming from somewhere far away. Greg groaned inwardly, his head pounding and his stomach doing somersaults.

_ "I specifically told you he had a Texas accent! Did you even bother to check that?"_

_ "No, but-"_

_ "God, I guess if I want things done right, I gotta do 'em myself!"_ Myers ran a hand down his face in frustration. His accomplices were a couple of stupid bimbos. Suddenly, their captive that was strapped to a chair, groaned weakly. Myers scoffed. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do with him?"

"N-Nick," Greg moaned.

And then a light bulb flicked on in his brain, a sinister smile forming on his face. "I think I've got a better idea. Get the things ready; I'm gonna go connect with the CSI's."

The two men glanced at each other before doing what they were told…getting the torture tools. Matt walked down the hall to his office and grabbed his computer; he'd thought of a better way to torture Nick Stokes…hurt the one cares about most. Whether those two be gay lovers or just brothers, he knew that this would make the Texan crack. He took away their brother, now it was time to return the favor. Sighing with a smile, he walked back into the main room where things were getting set up and their captive was just barely conscious. He placed a stool down and put the laptop on top of it, the webcam facing Greg. Time to get started. Matt walked over to the kid and roughly lifted up his chin.

"Wakey, wakey Sanders."

Greg groaned, his eyes flickering open sluggishly. Everything was blurry and his head was hurting like a bitch. He had no idea where the hell he was and the man standing in front of him wasn't helping his view.

"W-Who are y-you?" Greg mumbled.

"Well, you _would _know me if you were Nick Stokes, but there's been a bit of a mix-up."

"Leave Nick alone."

"Oh, I intend to…physically." Myers pushed Greg's face away now that the kid was awake.

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's going to be forced to watch you suffer."

Greg's breathing hitched and he pulled at his restraints. Myers came over to him and wrapped a bandana around his mouth tightly. Greg screamed at him angrily which only elicited a laugh from his kidnapper.

"Feisty…I like it. But don't waste your energy just yet; save it for the fun we're about to have."

Greg blinked, trying to clear his vision and watched as Myers dragged a table into view. And what was on that table made his heart sink to his feet and all his blood drain.

"Wa' 'ha hell ah 'oo 'oing?" Greg said, though it was barely decipherable through the gag. He pulled at his restraints again, his skin chafing brutally.

"Having fun." Myers lifted something up that made Greg's eyes go wide. And even though he tried to be brave, it was really hard to stay calm. Myers went over to the computer and pressed record before smirking over at Greg. "Let the screaming begin."

~+CSI+~

Nick held a shaking fist to his mouth as he paced the break room. Greg was gone; he had let the kid out of his sight and now he'd been kidnapped. God he was a fucking idiot! They hadn't found squat at the scene as to where Greg was, except for tire prints. The kidnapper had been _watching_ them. Henry was trying to get the car model, but so far the kid was having no luck. Nick felt horrible right now; he had been comparing Warrick to Greg and it was wrong of him to do so. And those had been one of his last words to the guy. Catherine and Grissom were in Brass' office and Sara was with Henry, trying to help him out. So, he was left alone with his guilty thoughts.

"God G, I'm so sorry…I'm so, so sorry. Please hang on; please be alive."

"Nick?" A voice called out from behind him. Turning around, he faced the receptionist, Katie.

"Hey Katie," he said tiredly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry about Greg, but I know you guys will find him."

Nick smiled weakly and then noticed the small package in her hand. "That for me?"

"Oh yeah…sorry." She handed it to him along with a clipboard. Signing it quickly, he nodded to Katie before heading past her into the light room. He had made sure to just hold it by the tip of the envelope before he pulled on gloves and now he was turning it in his hands, inspecting it with scrutiny. It was completely blank besides his last name on the front. He swallowed thickly as he carefully cut open a side and turned the envelope upside down. A single flash-drive and nothing else slid onto the table with a clatter. His heart was racing, knowing this was going to lead to something bad. Nick walked over to the computer, plugged in the device and waited…and waited…and waited. Finally a window popped up and it had a video called 'play me.' Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he prayed this wasn't what he thought it was. Clicking on the video, it immediately started to play.

It was dark and the camera was facing a single person sitting in a chair with a bag over their head. _Please no._

_"Hello Nick Stokes."_ A distorted voice rang out.

Nick inhaled sharply, listening in fear. _"You got lucky; it seems that we had a little mix-up. My boys were _supposed_ to grab you but instead grabbed your friend in the process. Now, we were just gonna kill him…but then I thought: what better way to torture you then to torture your best friend."_ The bag was ripped away and Nick was staring into Greg's fear-filled eyes. His mouth was gagged and he was pulling at his restraints.

"Oh god…Greg." This was his fault; _he_ was supposed to be in that chair, not Greg. What has he done?

_"We'll be live soon, but for now, just sit back and watch the show."_

Nick leaned forward and watched as Greg's kidnapper closed in on Greg with a weird metal contraption in his hand. The gag was pulled out of his mouth and then he roughly attached the brace to his mouth. The man turned to grab something and all of a sudden he heard the sound of a drill.

"No."

Greg's eyes slid over and his chest heaved with frantic breaths_. "Wa'…wa' ah oo' 'oing?"_

_ "Playing dentist."_

The kidnapper grabbed Greg's mouth and hovered over him with the drill.

"Pwease…n-no…no!"

Tears made their way down Nick's face as he was forced to listen to Greg's tortured screams…and he knew that this was just the start of it. Greg's torture was about to get so much worse and it was because of him.

**TBC…**

**That's part one of this story…be ready for the next part! I NEED MORE PROMPTS!**


	10. Replacement Part II

**Replacement Part II**

**Here's the next part! You guys probably all hate me for being super late with this, but graduation is on the way and it has been hectic. Once I get past that, I'll be able to write full time! I hope people are still reading this! Enjoy :)**

_"Plea-he-hese! Please stop! Ahhhh!" Greg cried._

_ "Beg for your life! Beg!"_ Marcus laughed, ramming a cigar into Greg's bare skin. There were already marks all over his neck, arms and torso. Now Marcus had moved to the kid's chest.

Nick trembled in anger as he forced himself to watch Greg's torture. The rest of the team stood around him, watching as well with tears in their eyes and nausea in their stomachs. Nick had called them in ten minutes ago, unsure that he could see this on his own any longer. It was too much to handle; too much guilt. And the video…the video was an hour long. One hour of torture that his little brother was receiving and it was supposed to be him instead. He should've been the one getting that torment, not Greg.

"Nicky?" Catherine whispered placing a hand on his shoulder. She knew how hard this was for the man and to know that they'd grabbed the wrong person must've made it worse. "Nick, it'll be alright. We're tracking down where this was sent from."

Nick remained silent, unable to take his eyes off the screen no matter how much it killed him. He doubted they'd find the sender, there had been no prints on the envelope and the delivery boy said the envelope just appeared in his bag. However, he did remember placing the bag in the truck- in sight- while he went inside the convenience store. No doubt the kidnapper had placed it in there without being caught by any cameras.

"Do you want to go take a break?" She asked.

"No…God, this is all my fault, Cath."

"Nick-"

"I'm fine," he took a deep breath and put his face in his hands. "Really, I am."

All of a sudden, Greg's screaming turned into gasps for air, causing everyone to look up in fear.

"So that concludes this video, Nicky; are you ready for the live viewing? I thought so. I'll send you a link in a while. So just sit back, relax and be patient." The screen went black and the room was completely silent.

Catherine reached over and ejected the CD. "I'll get this to Hodges for prints and then see if Archie can do anything with it."

Nick clenched his jaw and nodded, trying to keep himself from puking. Drilling holes into teeth, cigarette burns, knife cuts…what else? What else would Greg be subjected to that was actually meant for him instead?

"We're gonna find him right?" He said quietly to Sara who was staring at him sadly.

"There's no doubt in my mind, Nick," she whispered. _Question was would they find him alive?_

Nick turned to the brunette and smiled grimly before returning his gaze back to the empty screen. When that camera turned on, he would be right there; he would be Greg's first sight, letting him know he'd be there with him until they got him out.

"Are you gonna be alright while I go with Grissom to speak to Ecklie?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm good. Go ahead." Truthfully, he didn't want to do this alone; but he was supposed to be the strong one on the team so he couldn't act weak. Greg didn't need him to be weak…but maybe the kid was the stronger one. Evidence from over the past week after Warrick had proved that.

"God Greggo, please forgive me for being such a selfish bastard…I'm so sorry."

~+CSI+~

Nick's cheek was propped up on his fist, trying to stop himself from falling asleep. Plagued by nightmares, he'd only gotten at least two or three hours of a shut eye on the break room couch and waiting for an hour wasn't helping his case. All of a sudden, the computer lit up, signifying a new email. His heart fluttering, Nick sat up and moved the mouse over to the link that read 'click me.' He inhaled sharply when his webcam beeped, indicating it was on…and live. And on the screen sat Greg, slumped in a single chair, hands tied behind his back and unmoving.

"G…Greggo, can you hear me man?" He was scared right now; Greg wasn't responding and he couldn't see if the kid was breathing. "Come on, come on. Talk to me buddy."

A small groan finally sounded through the speakers and Greg's head rolled on his shoulder until he was sitting up right.

"That's it bud." But Greg looked like shit. Blood caked the right side of his head, all in his blonde hair and most of his chin. His left eye was swollen shut and bruises were starting to form all over his face. The cigarette burns were starting to look infected and the shallow knife cuts, even though they stopped bleeding, looked really bad. "Oh Greg."

_"Nick?"_ Greg wheezed, yet barely opening his mouth. His jaw was killing him from the drill and he knew some of his teeth were going to be damaged… just hopefully not permanently. _"T-That you?"_

"Yeah man. You alright?"

_"B-Been better."_

"Don't worry, we're gonna find you…do you have any idea where you are?"

Greg glanced around. _"J-Just a warehouse."_

"And there are hundreds of warehouses in Nevada…dammit."

_"N-Nick? Nick, in case I don't…in case I don't get out of here-"_

"Greg, stop."

_"I want you to know I'm sorry for sn-snapping at you earlier."_

"You had a reason to; I shouldn't have been comparing you to Warrick."

_"B-But you were right…n-not good enough…not a g-good CSI."_

"Greg that's not-"

_"Aw, well isn't this nice."_ A voice said. The man came into view and Nick growled.

_"So I hoped you liked my little video; I know Greggo had fun."_ The kidnapper placed a hand on Greg's shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Who the fuck are you?"

_"Ooh, you can't tell? Let me fill you in, Nicky. You, uh, shot my friend- my brother- and now he's in jail. We were a team and he was my family; so now since you took my brother away, I'm returning the favor."_

Nick frowned before a light bulb went off in his head. "Marcus Davis?"

_"Ding! Ding! Ding!"_ He pulled off the mask with a grin. _"You are correct. Now I'll make a deal; you get my brother released from jail and bring him to me or…your friend will get tortured to death."_

Nick breathed heavily, clenching his teeth together. "You're bluffing. The moment we bring your brother, you'll kill him anyways."

Marcus smirked as he went over to Greg. Without warning, he whipped out a screwdriver, smacked a hand over Greg's mouth and stabbed the tool into the man's leg. The young CSI let out a muffled scream, thrashing in the chair.

"No!" He saw tears dripping down Greg's face and his chest heaving. Maybe Marcus really wasn't bluffing. "Okay, okay, I get it!"

"You have five hours."

And with that, the camera turned off, leaving Nick lost for words. Because they were so screwed…Marcus' brother died in prison two years ago.

~+CSI+~

Nick paced the computer room, wishing the camera would turn back on; he needed to talk to Greg. He needed to apologize. He hadn't been such a great friend- or brother- at all. Greg was only trying to cheer him up since Warrick had died. But he had just blown him off because he'd been too fucking selfish and self-absorbed with his own problems. He knew Greg had been mourning; Hodges even told him about Greg crying when he was talking to the shrink…but he had done nothing about it. Nick swallowed and wiped his mouth; he was some brother. Greg had to pull through this; he just had to.

Sighing in sheer frustration, Nick reluctantly left the room and headed down the hall. He needed a coffee…he _needed_ his little brother back. As he made his way towards the break room, he passed the lockers and it made him stop. Nick slowly walked inside and went to his locker; upon opening it, he grinned weakly. The first thing that greeted him was the small picture he taped up to the door of him, Warrick and Greg. It had been Greg's birthday and they had taken him out for a drink…and it was fun messing with a drunken Greg. It almost got to the point where they were kicked out of the bar, but luckily they left. The next morning found them all passed out at Nick's, but Greg the only one with the severe hangover. Grissom wasn't amused. Good times.

Nick put the photo back inside and rubbed the back of his neck. Good times that had changed drastically. That photo had been before Greg became a CSI; before he wasn't exposed to the horrors of this gruesome job. When he was crazy and listened to loud music and wore weird shirts. But that was all in the past; Greg was different now and Nick didn't particularly like it. Sure, it was good that the man was serious, but it was just bizarre to see a huge change in the man who he thought would never grow up.

"Nick." A voice broke him out of his thoughts. It was Sara. He looked up and he saw panic in her dark eyes.

"What? What is it?"

"It's Greg; the camera turned back on."

When they reached the computer, Nick let out a little sigh of relief. Greg looked exactly the same way he had before…maybe a little bit green around the gills and on the verge of passing out, but Nick saw no new injuries.

_"There you are Nick; I was beginning to think you'd left this little beauty all by himself with me." _Marcus stroked Greg's cheek, causing the kid to whimper and shy away weakly. He trailed his finger down Greg's side and towards his belt and Greg shivered in disgust…this couldn't be happening, he couldn't be doing what he thought he was gonna do.

"Get your fucking hands off of him!" the Texan growled protectively. He just wanted to reach inside the computer and strangle the bastard right then and there. "I swear to god!"

_"Oh?"_ Marcus stopped at Greg's belt buckle. _"Fine, I have something better planned anyways." _Marcus waved to someone off screen and Nick's eyes flicked to the corner, waiting for whatever was coming. Another damn thing that Greg was gonna have to fight through.

Marcus' henchmen dragged a large tub into view…a tub filled with water. Nick gripped the table, knowing exactly what was gonna happen.

"Stop! Please, don't do this!"

_"But me and Greggo are gonna have so much fun."_

Nick and Sara watched helplessly as Greg was dragged over to the tub and dumped into the murky water. Marcus grabbed the young CSI by the collar and pushed him under. Nick could see Greg's limbs failing, water splashing everywhere…fighting for his life. It seemed like forever, but Greg was finally brought to the surface and he was desperately trying to take in oxygen, clawing at the sides of the tub.

"Stop! Please, stop hurting him!"

_"Ni-"_ Greg began. But before he could get out another word, he was pushed back under. This went on for fifteen minutes and Nick could see Greg was starting to give up. The thrashing was weaker and every time Greg was brought up to get a couple seconds of air, he would barely take in any.

"Stop! Please, I beg you." Nick tried to hold in the tears, but it was difficult to see his little brother so close to death.

_"Alright, alright; I was getting bored anyways. Tie him back up…actually, I have a better idea. Dump him on the floor and come with me."_

The henchman tied Greg's wrists back up and then pulled him out of the tub, throwing him to the ground. Greg coughed harshly, weakly pushing himself to his knees, his body trembling intensely.

"Greg…Greg, you okay?"

_"Y-Yeah," Greg choked out. "Yeah I'm good."_

"Good…just hang in there. We're gonna find-"

_"What are you doing?"_

Nick frowned. "What do you mean?"

_"No…what are you doing with that?"_

And then Nick realized that Marcus had come back. All of a sudden, Marcus' evil smile popped up in front of the camera before it shut off once again.

"Son of a bitch!" He slammed his fist on the table, startling Sara, before running his fingers through his hair. No telling what Marcus had in store for the kid. Grumbling in frustration, he went to go search for Archie, hoping he tracked the IP address down.

"Please tell me you know where he is," he breathed, hovering over the tech.

"I almost do…just give me another ten minutes."

Nick inwardly groaned. "Hurry; he turned the camera off again."

Archie nodded nervously, typing faster than he had ever done before.

"Let me know when you get it." Nick ran back to the computer room, praying that the camera had turned back on…and it had. What he saw made his legs go weak. Greg was now hanging from his wrists by a moldy rope and Marcus was circling around him with a large knife in his hands.

"Now don't move a muscle, Greg, you wouldn't want me to accidently hit something vital, would you?"

And without warning, Marcus pushed the knife into Greg's side slowly. The young CSI gasped in surprise and a look of pain flashed across his sweat covered face. Nick shouted in anger in hopes that Marcus would stop, but the man just ignored him. In five minutes, there were ten knife wounds with blood trickling down Greg's body and his pants. Nick was trembling, so close to breaking down.

"Please stop," he bowed his head and whispered, hearing Greg's labored breathing.

_"But we're not finished yet."_ And he wasn't. Instead of stabbing Greg's slowly, he propelled it into his little brother's body. Again and again and again. Soon enough, Greg was unable to make a sound and blood caked his pant legs.

_"So Nicky, we are close to concluding our show; your five hours are almost up and so is Greg's life. I hope you have my brother or I'll be slitting _your_ brother's throat. See you soon."_

And as soon as the screen went black for, what seemed like, the hundredth time, Archie appeared in the doorway, nearly out of breath. "I found him."

~+CSI+~

As soon as the cars screeched at the warehouse, gunshots emitted from inside. They all ducked behind the doors, returning fire, hoping they could hit whoever was shooting at them…whoever was keeping them from Greg. Nick's heart was racing as he aimed into the open space; determined to kill.

"Gaah!" A man fell out, clutching his side, blood spilling onto the dirt. Another thirty seconds and another man fell out, but dead. Without warning, the guy they all recognized as Marcus bolted out, heading for the next nearest warehouse. While a few officers went over to the injured henchman, everyone else started to follow Marcus. But Nick was torn between where he should go; beat the shit out of the guy who hurt his little brother or go find the kid.

"Go Nick!" Catherine shouted. "You go get Greg, we'll go after Marcus.

Nodding, they went their separate ways. Nick burst into the musty room, knowing that the rest of the team had Marcus. Frantically, he scanned the room for Greg…but it was empty. What the hell did he do with the kid?

"Dammit! Greg! Greg buddy can you hear me?" Nick ran around searching for his best friend. There wasn't a lot of time left; Greg was bleeding out and who knows what internal injuries the kid had. "Gre-" He suddenly noticed a thin hallway leading down to another part of the warehouse.

"Greg! I'm coming man, just hold on." And when he finally reached the other side, he felt like he was gonna be sick. Greg was hanging from his wrists, feet barely touching the floor and his head down.

"No…" Nick bolted over and cupped Greg's grime covered face and lifted it up. His face was a mess…it looked a lot worse up close. His clothes were soaked to the bone and his skin was pale underneath all the injuries and blood…so much blood. Stroking the man's cheek with his thumb, he desperately tried to wake the unconscious man up. "G, wake up. Greg! God." Just as he took his knife and got ready to cut the ropes, Greg flinched out of nowhere and moaned hoarsely.

"Greg?"

"P-Please…no more," he whimpered, head rolling away from Nick and forehead creasing in fear. "D-Don't hurt m-me any…anymore."

"Hey, hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's Nick; we found you, you're gonna be okay now."

"N-Nick?" Greg's uninjured eye finally slipped open. "Y-You came?"

"Course I came, man."

"Th-Thought you didn't c-care 'bout me." Greg closed his eyes, the blood loss making him sleepy.

Nick frowned, guilt washing over him. "Well, you thought wrong, buddy." The Texan reached up and carefully began cutting the ropes, his arm gently wrapped around the kid's skinny waist. "I would never leave you hanging…no pun intended."

Greg let out a throaty laugh but groaned when the ropes started to give away and release some of the tension in his arms.

"Sorry."

"S'okay."

It remained silent for a moment as Nick worked continuously to break the bonds. "Almost there, kiddo." And after a few more seconds, the rope was cut and Greg fell into Nick's arms with a gasp.

"It h-hurts Nick."

"It'll be okay, you're safe. Now let's get you the hell out of here." Careful of his little brother's injuries, Nick picked Greg up bridal style and went back the way he came. He hugged the kid to his chest when he felt tears wet his shirt. "You're safe now; I'm never letting you go." He gave a quick brotherly kiss to the top of the man's head before finally exiting the warehouse and into the arms of paramedics.

"Nick!" Greg cried when he was ripped away the protective hold. "Wh-where-"

"I'm right here, man," the Texan said, popping his head over the many EMTs that were getting his friend ready for transport. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you."

Greg coughed violently, unable to take in a breath and Nick knew it was the result of nearly being drowned. He couldn't wait to get Marcus in custody; that way he could rip the guy to pieces. When the coughing didn't stop, he started to get a little worried.

"Greg? G, take it easy."

And then the worst of his fears; everything went silent. Greg was no longer coughing…or breathing.

"No."

"Inject him with adrenaline; we need to get him to the hospital now or we'll never get him back. Start compressions in the bus." Greg was lifted onto the stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Nick started to get on, but was pushed back.

"I'm sorry, but there isn't enough room."

"But-"

"We're bringing him to Spring Valley; you can meet us there." With that, the doors slammed in his face and the vehicle sped away without hesitation. Nick was now alone with his fear that this could've been the last time he saw Greg alive…and he never even said how sorry he was…he never got the chance to tell his little brother how much he really meant to him.

"Greg…don't leave me."

~+CSI+~

Nick paced the waiting room nervously, biting his lip and only thinking about his little brother. Countless times, Catherine tried to persuade him to sit down or go eat something, but he refused. He wasn't leaving, sleeping, eating or relaxing until he knew Greg was okay.

"Nicky please…just sit down." He was a bit shaken after chasing and killing Marcus. She knew the Texan wanted to do some damage, but so did she; no one hurt her family.

"I'm not sitting, Catherine! Not until I know he's alive and okay."

The blonde sighed sadly, shaking her head and glancing at Grissom. They waited for another three hours before someone finally emerged from the double doors.

"Family of Greg Sanders?"

Nick perked up and quickly walked over to the man. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Nick." Grissom pulled him back gently. "Take it easy."

The doctor smiled in sympathy and took a deep breath.

"Please….please tell me if he's…he's not…" Nick began.

"He's alive."

Everyone let out a relieved sigh. Greg was alive…but was he okay?

"My name is Dr. Carl Matthews and I tended to Greg's injuries and I must say he's very lucky to be alive. You guys have a fighter."

Nick smiled weakly before he focused his attention to the details. "What I saw was horrific and he'll have a long way to recovery."

"_Physically and mentally, doctor,"_ Nick thought.

"All the cigarette burns and shallow knife cuts have become infected and caused him to get a 105° degree fever. The deeper wounds he obtained weren't as bad, seeing as they didn't nick anything too vital. His spleen was hit, but it was repaired immediately and there was no need for removal. It's said here that Mr. Sanders was nearly drowned and so we had to drain his lungs of the fluid. Now he has pneumonia and will have a pretty nasty cough for a while, but he should be fine. Other than the concussion, the two most dangerous injuries are the drilled teeth and the stab wound in his leg. I've scheduled an appointment for dental reconstruction, but the drill went extremely close to his nerves so there is a possibility he'll have problems with his jaw. The stab wound is also infected and hit the femoral artery; he lost a lot of blood, but we are transfusing him some as we speak. All in all, it will be rough, but I'm sure with the support from you all, he'll be able to get through this."

Nick wanted to punch something; throw-up and then punch something. Greg was in terrible condition and it was all because of him. Those injuries, those surgeries, they were all meant for him, but he got Greg mad and now he had faced dire consequences.

"Is he…awake?" Sara whispered. "Can we see him?"

"He's not awake, however, I will let one of you sit with him until we bring him to the dental reconstruction surgery."

Everyone looked at Nick. "You go Nicky," Catherine smiled. "We can wait."

The Texan forced a smile and nodded before following Dr. Matthews down the hall. He was honest to god terrified at what he'd see. What he had learned about Greg's injuries made it sound like it was really, really bad. Like close to death bad.

"Here we are," the doctor said, standing in front of the large ICU room. "And don't worry; it sounds worse than it actually is."

"Thanks," he mumbled before heading inside the dark room. And what he saw made his heart stop. Greg looked horrible. He was so small and fragile looking; his face was a mess of bruises and cuts. A nasal cannula ran underneath his nose, giving him oxygen he lost while being drowned. Moving down, a large bandage was placed on the neck burns, and some were wrapped around his arms as well. From under his armpits and down to his waist was an even bigger bandage wrapped around his body, covering the knife wounds that had been so bad. Same thing with the stab wound in his leg. His face was covered in a thick layer of sweat and he could basically felt the heat emanating off his body.

"Oh god, G. I'm so sorry." He carefully walked over to the unconscious man and gently placed his hand on Greg's cold one. He winced as the scratchy breathing hitched, which caused him to almost pull away, fearful that he might've woken him up. Tears dripped down his cheek and he sniffed.

"Please forgive me, Greg and please, _please_ don't leave me. I've been such a bad brother to you lately and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again. I just need to know that you're okay. Greggo…please; I love you man."

All of a sudden, the kid's fingers twitched underneath his palm. "Greg?"

Greg's hand curled and he moaned weakly, head rolling on the pillow towards Nick's voice.

"N-Ngh."

"Yeah buddy, it's me. You're safe now, I've got you."

"Not your f-fault…mine…weak."

"That's not true, Greg."

"S'true…weak…not like Warrick."

"You don't need to be like Warrick. You need to be like Greg Sanders; the crazy, energetic little brother that I love."

"B-Brother?"

"Yeah man, you're my little brother and I've been too caught up in myself to see that. That you're still here and that you also need someone to lean on. Warrick wasn't just my brother, he was _both_ of ours."

A tear slipped out of Greg's closed eyes and Nick squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"N-Never blamed y-you…but f-forgive you."

Nick smiled. "Thanks man…now get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

"'Kay…Nick?"

"Yeah man?"

"L-Love you, too."

Nick was surprised; he didn't think Greg had heard him. But that was good. Greg was his little brother and he'd never forget that ever again.

**Fin!**

**There you have it! REVIEWS + MORE PROMPTS!**


	11. Hostage

**Hostage**

**Sorry I've taken so long, my computer crashed and I had to get a new one! Now I'm back though! So I'm gonna change this up a bit. You may have noticed the title change '30 Days of…' to Summer of Hurt Greg, because it will be easier and I can write more stories that way. Also since I'm not getting a huge influx of prompts. So, with that being said, keep the prompts coming and I'll keep the stories going! Enjoy this next chapter! **

_**Chapter Info: For Macberly. Early Greg, season 3 or 4 or 5, hostage situation with Grissom and Nick and Warrick somehow playing into the situation.**_

Greg sighed as he set down his kit and wiped his face. This was gruesome…even comparing it to his incident- that happened only a few years ago- his was nothing. The entire building was fine…but the people inside the room…burnt beyond recognition. It hit him hard, but he wasn't gonna let it get to him; well, he was gonna try. And he especially had to keep his cool so he could prove to Grissom that he could be a CSI. He had already messed up once, he wasn't gonna do it again. No telling how Warrick and Nick would make fun of him this time if he freaked or screwed the whole case to the ground.

"Time to get to work."

And as soon as he got to work, his mind had shut itself off from the outside world and only focused on the poor innocent victims in front of him. He tried not to think about the smell of burnt flesh or how if he got close enough to one of the bodies, he could feel the heat emanating off into the air. Swallowing the nausea and pushing back the dizziness, he walked behind the desk and towards the back room, wondering if there was anything that'd help the case. And boy did he find something; it looked like the torch that was used to kill the victims. With a smile, he started to dust it for prints; he didn't even hear the footsteps that were coming up behind him; even if he did, he would've assumed it was one of his colleagues…after all, no one else was in the building. Just as Greg was about to stand up, he felt something cold and hard press on his neck. The blood drained from his face and his body went rigid.

"Don't. Move. A muscle" A voice growled from behind him. "And do what I say."

Greg nodded stiffly as he closed his eyes. And all that was going through his mind was: _oh fuck._

~+CSI+~

Nick snapped another photo before wiping the sweat off of his forehead. It was hot…ter than usual and he just wanted to get back to the lab where it was nice and air conditioned. In fact, he was kind of envying the younger CSI since he got to process the inside the building; as grisly as the scene was, the building was away from the sun.

"Man, I wish there was a down pour right now," Warrick said, coming up beside Nick with some filled evidence bags. "Sanders must be having the time of his life."

"N-Not exactly."

They along with Grissom turned towards the entrance of the bank and their eyes went wide. Their hearts beat in a panic as they saw Greg with a gun to his head and the man they recognized as the bank manager- Mike Sullivan- having an arm wrapped tightly around the kid's neck. Guns were instantly drawn and pointed in their direction.

"Put the gun down and let him go," Nick growled protectively. If this guy hurt Greg- his little brother- there would be hell to pay.

"I won't be doing either of those things," Sullivan sneered tightening his grip on Greg's throat. The blonde grimaced, trying desperately to breathe. "Not until I get a deal; I want fifty million and a copter to Japan or the kid gets it."

Nick swallowed as he glanced at Warrick before making eye contact with Greg. _It'll be okay, bud, just hang on._

"You have ten minutes before I blow his brains out." With that, Greg was roughly dragged back into the bank despite his attempts to get away. Nick swore loudly as he faced Grissom.

"What the hell are we gonna do? The lab has a no negotiation policy."

Grissom thought for a moment…and for once, he had no clue what to do next but call LVPD and Ecklie; they might not do much, but he prayed that'd it get Greg out alive…because what will?

~+CSI+~

Greg stared at the gun pointing at his face, trying to stay calm but knowing he wouldn't be able to for long. He and Sullivan were sitting across from each other and it was completely silent between the two of them. He knew the lab didn't negotiate so either Grissom and Nick would _hopefully_ figure something else out…or he was dead. Swallowing thickly, he took a deep breath.

"Why did you do that?" Greg gestured to the smoldering bodies.

Sullivan smirked briefly. "The employees were a bunch of snobs all wanting raises and whatnot. And I couldn't have witnesses so I had to kill the customers too. I cleaned out the vault, but that's when you guys had to show up…and just as I was about to leave I remembered the torch."

"Don't you think the torch was a bit of an overkill? I mean really…a torch?"

"Those bastards deserved that death."

Greg shivered, remembering that Doc Robbins said the burning had commenced when they were alive. "What a way to go."

Sullivan chuckled, adjusting the gun to his other hand so he could rest the latter.

"Really though…why? Wouldn't it had been easier to steal the money and just run? You _are _the manager. What about family? What are they gonna think when they find out about this."

"I don't give a shit what they think!" Sullivan scowled, standing up and forgetting about Greg. "My family couldn't give two fucks about me anyways. They didn't even care enough to call the cops when I got held hostage in a basement for two weeks; they just assumed I ran away. After I escaped and the people who had me got arrested, I had found out that my family moved away. I had to make it on my own."

Greg was completely shocked; this guy did have it rough. And he really didn't know what to say to that. It remained silent for a few minutes before Greg decided to speak up again. "Well, you did a pretty good job on making it on your own, but now that you did this…"

"Yeah, yeah I know," Sullivan turned around, staring at his reflection on the trash can cover.

"And I'm not a very good negotiator, but I'm sure we can figure something out; you just have to let me go." However, Sullivan doing that was a long shot, but worth a try.

"I'm not letting you go…I know there will be nothing left for me but jail. I'm gonna kill you and then I'm gonna kill me."

"Mike-"

"Shut up!"

Greg flinched, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Suddenly, something dawned on him; he remembered that he carried a pocket hidden behind his belt since he didn't like carrying guns. All he had to do was get it without Sullivan noticing.

"Please don't do this, Mike. I'm begging you." And then he was starting to get angry; this guy was being irrational. "You may not have a family, but I do…and you're gonna take me away from them; you're gonna ruin their lives. Just because your life sucks and you're a pathetic loser, it doesn't mean you have to drag me down with you."

But getting angry and calling the guy names probably wasn't the best thing to do because the next thing he knew, the gun was going off and the knife quickly left his fingers before he stumbled to the ground. The edge of his vision greyed and he could feel the warm sticky substance on his body. Blood. He was so screwed.

~+CSI+~

Nick had been pacing impatiently while Grissom was arguing on the phone with Ecklie. One of their own had their life on the line and the big boss didn't even give a crap. How were they supposed to get a helicopter and fifty million in ten minutes? It was damn near impossible! God, if Greg was killed, he'd never forgive himself; and then he'd hate himself even more for the way he and Warrick treated him the other day. They were supposed to be a family and Greg may never know how true that was. He looked over at Warrick who seemed just as worried; this was so fucking messed up.

Warrick noticed as Nick glanced over at him. He sighed shakily, trying to keep his cool. There was no room for error, no time to freak out because Greg was in serious trouble. He ran his fingers through his afro, puffing his cheeks and pacing like the Texan. Sanders was like brother to him- a really annoying little brother- but family all the same. Losing him would be like feeling the same sensation that he had when he lost his dad. That's why he turned to gambling; it got his mind off the pain. He didn't want to go back into gambling…and he wanted Greg to get out of this alive.

And when they all heard those three gunshots, their hearts sunk to the ground and stomachs twisting into a fearful knot.

"No! Greg!" Nick shouted as he pulled his gun and started towards the building. All he could picture was the young CSI dead and pale on the floor, blood surrounding his motionless body. It couldn't be real. Greg had to be alive.

"LVPD!" Nick shouted, everyone else behind him having their guns trained on the threat. But the threat was dead. There was a knife in Sullivan's throat, the wound gushing out pails of blood. Then that meant…

Nick turned. "Greg!" The younger man was sitting on the ground, propped up against the desk, eyes closed, face pale and his breathing labored. Everything seemed fine except for the fact that blood was flowing from underneath Greg's hand that was plastered against his shoulder. Immediately, he ran over and collapsed to his knees next to the man.

"Greggo can you hear me, buddy?" He gently tapped Greg's cheek and thankfully he was rewarded with a response. Greg's eyelids flickered open, revealing glassy brown orbs.

"We need the paramedics!" Warrick shouted as he bent over next to his friends.

"N-Nick?" He gasped.

"Hey man, how're feeling?" _Stupid question to ask, Nick._

"Pretty good, actually," Greg chuckled weakly.

Nick smiled. "Here, let me look." He tenderly pried Greg's trembling, blood covered hand away from the wound and inspected it quietly. Carefully, he leaned Greg forward to see if the bullet had come out before putting the kid back against the desk. "Looks like a through and through flesh wound, but we need to get you to the hospital just to be sure."

Greg swallowed thickly as he nodded, trying to keep the nausea down. He put his hand back on the stinging bullet hole, hissing when it shot another dose of pain throughout his entire body. And he tried not to, but a whimper of pain slipped past his tight lips.

Nick smiled sadly. "It'll be okay, man. Just breathe through it." Maybe he should get 'pain' off the kid's mind. "G, did you full on knife Sullivan?"

A small smile formed on Greg's face. "Like a ninja."

Nick chuckled, seriously proud of his little brother.

"Man that's a hell of a shot," Warrick said in shock.

"G-Guess you both underestimated me." He was starting to get tired and he wanted to sleep, but he knew Nick and Warrick wouldn't let him. All the adrenaline used for talking down a guy with a gun pointed in his face, nearly being choked and actually being shot was gradually dissipating. And then it dawned on him…he was shot!

"Guess we did, buddy," Nick said. And he was about to apologize when Greg interrupted.

"Nick?"

"Yeah man?" Was it him or was Greg starting to shiver? And maybe start to get a little paler.

"I got shot."

Shock. Greg was slipping into shock. Where were the fucking paramedics? "Rick, can you go see what the hell is taking the paramedics so long?" Greg was gonna bleed out…no, Nick wouldn't let that happen. Warrick trotted away and Nick turned back to the younger man. His eyes were starting to close.

"G, stay awake. I need you to keep your eyes open, alright?"

"Tryn' to Nick…s'tir'd, though," Greg started to slur. Not good. Greg's hold on his wound seemed to slack and Nick frantically pressed his hand over the kid's, keeping it there.

He was so tired and Nick's voice was echoing, sounding a million miles away. His eyes blinked open when the pressure resumed on his shoulder, but only briefly. His vision was cloudy and before he knew it, the massive blood loss won the battle and darkness swept over him.

As soon as Greg went limp and his hand started to slip from under his, Nick's heart raced in fear.

"Greg? Greg, wake up dammit." At least the kid was still breathing, but that was the slightest of his worries. If the kid lost any more blood, he was in big trouble. "Just hang on buddy, help's coming." He kept his hand against Greg's, wishing the paramedics would hurry the hell up before his little brother bled to death. _Just hang on._

~+CSI+~

He felt really drowsy…and really sick. His shoulder was killing him as well as his head and the noises around him weren't making anything better. He rolled his head on something very soft and wondered if he was at home in his bed…he prayed he was at home in his bed. A small groan ghosted past his lips as he got closer to consciousness.

"Greg?" A warm weight rested on his arm. "Hey, it's alright now, bud; you're safe. Just open your eyes."

Sluggishly, Greg blinked his eyes open to see a blurry shape in front of him. He gasped in fear, thinking that it was Sullivan coming back to kill him. Hands grabbed his shoulders, pushing him down as he started to struggle and panic.

"Greg! Greggo, take it easy buddy. It's Nick!"

Once he stopped to listen, he recognized the familiar Texan drawl. Blinking furiously to clear his vision, he suddenly came face to face with the older CSI. "Nick?"

"Yeah man."

The blonde let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing. Glancing around, he noticed that he was on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance. Were they going to the hospital? It didn't feel like they were moving.

"Are we going to the hospital?"

"No need to," Nick grinned. "They patched you up right here; we just need to pick up some pain meds."

"Good." He absolutely hated going to hospitals. He yawned and closed his eyes, leaning back against the pillows. "Where's everybody else?"

"Cleaning up."

"Hmmm." Why was he so exhausted? Must be the morphine.

"Which actually gives us a good time to talk. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted towards you last week about you freaking out over the burn victim; it wasn't right…I was being a jerk. I'm sure Warrick's feeling the exact same way."

"Nick-"

"No, let me finish. And I'm real proud of how you handled this situation today…it proves that you're a real CSI…that you were meant to be one all along."

"Even if I killed someone?" Greg opened his eyes again.

"It was self-defense, kiddo."

Greg looked away, feeling skeptical. He ended a life, he'd never forget that; he was a killer.

"Greg," Nick said forcefully, placing a firm hand on Greg's. "It was self-defense; if you didn't kill him, he was definitely gonna kill you. You need to believe that; we've all had to kill someone on duty or off if it meant our life was in serious danger."

"I'm pretty sure Grissom hasn't killed anybody."

"I bet he's squashed a few bugs in his time," Nick laughed.

And this earned a wide smile from the younger CSI, followed by a genuine laugh.

"Thanks Nick."

"You're welcome buddy."

**FIN**

**REVIEWS AND PROMPTS!**


	12. Crash Landing

**Crash Landing**

_**Chapter Info: For brendabear: How about **__**putting Greg as the one who should have gotten on the helicopter instead of Morgan. **_**I loved writing this one! Hope you like it :)**

If only he chose to stay in the desert with Russell…but then again, he would rather be here then let Morgan be in this situation. Greg stared at the gun Frank pointed in his face; and though he tried to remain calm, the guy had already shot the paramedic so he could be next if things went wrong. But hadn't things already gone wrong? The paramedic was shot and bleeding to death and the pilot had been forced to fly in another direction and turn the GPS off so no one knew where the hell they were. They were already so screwed. Greg swallowed the fear down and wiped his sweating face. To make matters worse, they were running low on fuel and they were nowhere near an air strip. He knew he wasn't gonna make it out of this; whether Frank killed them all or they ended up crashing, he was gonna die either way. Memories flashed through his mind, but the face that kept popping up was Morgan's. God, he never thought he would feel so attracted to her, but the big blue eyes and her wonderful smile just made his heart flutter. Now he'd never see her again; he'd never get to tell her how he really felt. A worried, yet angry voice suddenly brought him out of his thoughts and he looked at Frank

"Wait…who is that? Cops?!"

Greg frowned and looked out the window to see two SUV's following them. At first his stomach did a flip and thought they _were_ cops. They were saved…but then someone popped out of the sun roof with a machine gun pointed at the copter and his heart sank. This was an interesting turn of events.

"Not cops." He turned to the pilot frantically. "Get us out of here! NOW!"

But they hadn't been fast enough and soon bullets were riddling the aircraft. Before he knew it, he could smell smoke and realized they'd been hit. They were going out of control and there was nothing he or the pilot could do about it. He was being thrown every which way, smashing his head against the wall. _Concussion later, definitely._ His vision was starting the grey around the edges, so he just decided to close his eyes and let death come. _I'm sorry Morgan._

~+CSI+~

Morgan was making a trench in the floor as she paced restlessly. Greg, the suspect, and the helicopter were missing and they had no idea where they could've gone. She should've been the one to go, not him. Running a shaky hand through her blonde hair, she took a deep breath and tried to focus. Suddenly Russell came in, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"How're you doin'?"

"I'm fine." She exhaled heavily and looked down at the light table. "Why not let Frank get away?" She asked. "Wouldn't it be safer for Greg and the others if we just let him land; let him run?"

Russell pursed his lips. This girl was like a daughter to him and Greg was like his son…and he couldn't risk that if they land, Frank might kill them all. They had to stop the helicopter now. "I don't think so." He turned to leave but then stopped when he heard Morgan slap her hand angrily on the table.

"And why the hell not?"

He turned to look at her and he could see tears forming in her eyes. He knew the how Greg felt about the girl…but he always wondered how she felt about him. It seemed that this situation was bringing her feelings to light.

"Because…I'm not so sure his daughter is trying to help him get away."

Morgan frowned and Russell continued. "That girl hates her father for leaving; and what's more likely? That she wants to help him or hurt him?"

Morgan sniffed, looking away from her superior.

"That's why…now, are you gonna be okay?"

Morgan glanced at the older man, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. "Yeah."

"Okay." With that, Russell left, leaving her to be alone with her thoughts once again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she went to go find Nick and Sara. Walking solemnly down the hall, she heard them talking in the computer room and what she saw on the screen make her heart jump. It was Frank's daughter, Samantha, getting out of the head of Mad 10's car…and _kissing_ him. Russell was right; she didn't want to help her dad get away. She wanted to get him killed; and that was gonna get Greg killed in the process.

"I can't believe it; she set her dad up." She turned on her heel and ran out of the room, fuming with rage as she ran towards Samantha's interrogation room.

"You set them up!" She growled, getting into the woman's face, but it didn't seem to faze her. "You're gonna get them killed! You bitch!" Before she could get any closer, though, her dad and an officer pulled her back.

Sam just smiled in content, Morgan's words not changing anything. "Frankly, you really think I tried to help him?"

Morgan pulled against her father's grip, desperately wanting to punch the snot out of this girl. "Where did you send them? If they hurt him, I swear to you-" wait, where was this coming from?

"Mad 10's are my family. Frank killed two of us, he has to pay for that."

She was getting angrier by the second. "Where. Did. You send them?"

Sam just shrugged. "It's done."

Tears burned Morgan's eyes as she retched from her dad's grip and left the room. Her mind replayed back to the words she had said. She really cared for Greg and now that she might lose him…she regretted not giving him a chance. And it dawned on her that she really liked Greg…or maybe…maybe she even loved him. _God Greg, I'm so sorry._

~+CSI+~

Everything hurt. His head, his chest, his arm, just _everything!_ Consciousness was starting to come to him now and the scent of burning metal and flesh entered his nose. His stomach flipped as he blinked open his eyes and crawled out of the wreck. Truthfully, he was shocked he was still alive…so maybe if he lived, everyone else did too. However, he knew something was wrong…his side burned, or more like it stung. It felt like something was pinching his skin; arms and legs too weak to hold him up, he fell to his side that wasn't hurting- as bad- and rolled onto his back, completely out of breath. That's when he saw it; the large metal shard sticking through his vest and out of his side…and by what he could see- and feel- it was pretty deep.

"Oh god." Surviving the crash only to die from a stab wound. "Shit." He scrunched his face in pain and let out a shaky breath before bringing his trembling hands to the top of shard and slowly pulling it out. He knew he probably shouldn't be doing so, but he needed to go into the abandoned town and hide before he was killed by the Mad 10's. Whimpering in pain as the metal slid out, he threw it to the side and afterwards rolling onto his hands and knees once again. Pushing himself to a standing position, Greg unconsciously pulled the vest off and let it fall to the ground before stumbling over to the paramedics and dropping to his knees, checking for a pulse. Dead. _Just great._ Swallowing his pain, he stood back up and went to see the pilot. Dead as well. And that's when he noticed…Frank was gone.

Greg groaned in frustration as he staggered away from the wreck and looked up the road. Suddenly, he saw the nose of the SUV poke out from the trees and accelerate towards him. He coughed, feeling his blood soaking his shirt and the side of his pants. But to him at the moment, that was the least of his worries. He needed to take cover before he was shot to death. Just as the CSI turned around, he bumped into none other than Frank. _Still _pointing a gun at him, yet it was unsteady. The man was holding his chest and Greg knew Frank had been severely injured too…not to mention the injuries he had before this all happened.

"Follow me…they're coming…we gotta hide," he said breathlessly.

Frank remained silent, keeping the gun trained on Greg.

"Come on man, you got the gun; let's go."

Without hesitation, Frank limped behind Greg as they headed towards one of the buildings. But unfortunately, most of the doors were locked.

"Seriously?" Greg coughed again, feeling feverish and on the verge of passing out. _Not yet Greg, keep going. You can pass out when you're safe._ He rammed against another door and thankfully it bust open. Frank was leaning over a wheelbarrow, coughing his lungs out, so he had to grab his arm and drag him inside. After shutting the door, he prayed they hadn't been seen…because they were trapped. Greg ran a shaky hand through his hair before making Frank follow him further back in the building until they found a secluded corner. He sat the man down and ducked a little himself as he waited to hear anything of the Mad 10's. Frank was having a hard time breathing as he was, but he had to be focused or they'd both die.

"Alright, I think they know we're here." He turned to Frank and saw that the man was trying hard not to cough…but he did. Their position was made. Just as they thought that this was the end, they heard screeching tires and multiple bullets being fired. Greg flinched violently and backed up against the crates. The firefight seemed to go on forever until finally everything went quiet. Were they dead? Greg stood up and almost went to go look when he saw a shadow pass over the window.

"Son of a bitch." He moved back over to Frank and grabbed his arm. Never would he thought he'd help a criminal…someone that wanted to kill him. "Come on we gotta go. We gotta go!"

"I can't!" Frank shouted, putting the gun in his face again. Greg backed off, breathing hard. They stayed still for a moment before Frank handed the CSI the handle of the gun. Greg frowned, looking at the weapon in shock.

"I'm sorry," Frank wheezed, shaking violently. "I have nothing left and I'm dying." He put the gun in Greg's hand and the CSI grasped it quickly. "Save yourself."

And for a second, Greg hesitated, wondering if he should, before leaving Frank and heading back towards the front of the room. But he was staggering more and more; he felt nauseous and the room started spinning. Before he knew it, he found himself propped up against a crate, hopefully, out of view. The gun slipped to the floor, his hand too weak to hold it any longer…so if a guy came with a gun, he was finished. Maybe he should just die right now. No, he had to stay alive for Morgan; pressing his hand on the heavily bleeding wound, Greg closed his eyes and tried taking deep breaths as he listened. And then the door opened, followed by slow and pounding footsteps. They got closer and closer until they stopped…right beside him. He opened his eyes to meet the muzzle of a gun aimed at his forehead. This was it…this was the end. The shot of the gun went off and he waited for darkness to take him in for the final time.

"Greg!"

The CSI frowned as he heard a familiar voice. _Must be hearing things._

"Come on Greg, open your eyes."

"Morgan?" He did so and sure enough, the blonde was standing near him, her gun smoking from recent shooting. The guy that was about to kill him was dead on the floor, crimson blood pooling beneath him. "Morgan." He smiled in relief and chuckled.

"Hey," she smiled back, just as relieved as he was. Her friend was okay and he was alive. "How are you doing?"

"Not t-too bad. Frank is over there somewhere…I think he might be dead; he was injured pretty badly."

The smile vanished from Morgan's face as he knelt down beside him, stashing the gun away. "What about you? Are you hurt?" She stared at the blood on his shirt in fear, reaching for his hand.

"It's j-just a scratch," he said, trying to pull away. He didn't want her to see him like this.

"Bullshit. All this blood coming from a scratch? Come on, let me see it Greg."

Reluctantly, she let her pull his stiff hand away and he heard her gasp.

"Oh my god." When she had seen Greg leaning against the crates, besides from a few cuts and bruises, he looked relatively okay…she was wrong. Morgan had prayed that he wasn't hurt; praying was something she rarely did…obviously it didn't help. There was so much blood and she wondered how he was even making it this long. _Because he's strong and he never gives up._ "Oh Greg… don't worry, you'll be okay. Just hang on, alright?"

There was no response…just a soft thump. Her hand went over her gun as she looked up. Greg's eyes were closed and his face was extremely pale…well, under all the sweat and dirt.

"Greg? Come on, wake up; stop playing around, open your eyes…please." _Don't do this to me…I think I love you._

Sighing, she carefully laid him down and shouted for a medic while putting pressure on the wound. "Come on, wake up dammit."

"Ma'am?" She looked up. _When had the paramedics gotten in here?_ She knew she had to move over, but she wasn't leaving his side. She was never gonna leave his side until she knew he was okay. Scooting over, she sat beside Greg's head, running her fingers through his blonde curls. She loved him…she didn't _think_ she loved him, she _knew_ she loved him. And it took almost losing him to realize that.

"I love you Greg…please don't give up, okay? I love you; you have to wake up and get better so we can go on a date."

Greg's hand suddenly moved weakly, reaching up to Morgan's forearm, yet his eyes still closed. She gasped and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I'll t-take you up o-on t-that offer."

Morgan laughed and watched as Greg breathed, still in a world of pain. She whispered words of comfort until pretty soon, Greg was lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled out of this nightmarish place.

"Just stay with me, Greg; I'm right here."

"Oh god, G."

Morgan looked up from Greg's face and saw Nick running towards them, shock on his pale face. "Greggo." The man was his little brother and he couldn't believe this had happened…this _shouldn't _have happened.

"Where is that son of a bitch Frank?" He seethed, ready to go strange the ass that nearly got his little brother killed.

"Dead, Nick…he's dead," Morgan said, still clinging to Greg as they made their way to the ambulance.

"What about…fuck, that's a lot of blood, Morgan."

"Yeah…he's gonna be okay, though…right?"

"He better, or I'll be whopping his ass for scaring everyone."

Morgan chuckled.

"Miss, are you coming with us?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Take care of our Greg, alright?"

"I will." With that, Morgan hopped into the back of the vehicle and shut the doors before the ambulance took off, the sirens blaring. Morgan sighed, cupping Greg's cheek and stroking it with her thumb. _Everything was gonna be alright…hopefully._

~+CSI+~

He felt like he was floating in the clouds…he kind of wondered if that was a bad thing or a good thing. Maybe he was dead; he wouldn't be surprised if he was. But all that didn't matter to him anymore; at least he died knowing Morgan loved him…too bad he'd never get to go on a date, share a kiss, or maybe even marry her. _You're thinking ahead of yourself Greg._ He inhaled and then stopped. Something smelled weird; it was an all too familiar smell, actually. From the millions of times that his mom brought him, he realized now that he wasn't dead; he was at the hospital. _Thank you God!_ With all his strength, he pushed himself towards consciousness, wanting to see Morgan and his CSI family. When he finally managed to force open his eyes, he came face to face with a blurry figure…it looked like Nick. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the pull of the I.V that was stabbed into his hand. Grunting, he grimaced at the slight pain.

"Hey easy buddy, it's alright."

Greg opened his eyes and saw Nick smiling down at him with a hand on his arm.

"Nick." Greg said, voice extremely hoarse. A cup was suddenly in front of him and he took it gratefully, greedily drinking the cold water to soothe his burning throat.

"Hey, hey take it slow, G," Nick chuckled before taking the empty cup and putting it back on the table.

"Sorry," Greg grinned.

"S'Alright, man. How are you feeling?"

The younger CSI shrugged and winced when pain shot through his shoulder. Looking down he noticed his right left arm was wearing a sling. He also noticed his midriff was tightly wrapped in a snow-white bandage…and it was particularly itchy and uncomfortable though he tried not to show it.

"You okay?" But Nick had seen it.

"Yeah, just a little sore. How long have I been out?"

"Nearly a week."

"A week? Where's the- wait, where's Morgan?"

Nick smiled, knowing about Greg's love for the girl and knowing that she obviously loved him back. He dipped his head towards the other side of the room and Greg swiveled his head to see Morgan asleep on the recliner.

"She wouldn't leave your side for days. No matter what, she wouldn't sleep or eat…just waited for you to wake up. Finally got her to sleep last night."

Greg smirked. "You drugged her coffee didn't you."

Nick laughed. "Guilty."

Greg laughed before laying back on the pillows with a yawn. The meds were starting to kick in and he didn't want them too. What he wanted to do was talk to Morgan…guess that wasn't happening right now; he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Get some rest, Greggo. She'll be here when you wake up."

He barely nodded before he was out cold.

Nick smiled before it vanished. He didn't tell Greg the real the reason Morgan did all those irrational things. It was because she was afraid he'd die…again; apparently in the ambulance, he had crashed. It was something Morgan never wanted to see again or Nick hear about again. They had almost lost of their own; but they hadn't…Greg was okay now.

The next time Greg woke up, he was looking at the beautiful face of Morgan Brody. He smiled tiredly, shifting on under the covers to get comfortable.

"Hey you," Morgan smiled warmly.

"Hey to you too." He looked the woman over and smiled sadly. Her hair was uncombed, her mascara had been rubbed off, and her eyes were red as well as dark circles underneath them. All this would make a person look like shit, but to Greg, she still managed to look stunning.

"What?" She chuckled.

"Nothing."

"Alright…so how're you feeling?"

"Better. Still a little tired though."

Morgan nodded before punching Greg on the uninjured arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"That was for scaring the shit out of me; don't ever do it again." Her voice wavered, tears coming to her eyes as she replayed the recent events. She looked away, not wanting Greg to see her.

Greg looked at Morgan with sorrowful eyes. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it weakly, propping himself onto his elbow and staring at the woman. "Hey…look at me." And she did. "I'm okay, I'm still here and I 'm not going anywhere ever again. I promise."

Morgan nodded and bit her lip as she looked at Greg's. And then she thought what the hell; she knew Greg was just saying what he was saying to make her feel better, because this _could_ happen again. With this job, anything could happen…so they had to do things like there was no tomorrow. Without hesitation, she grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him close, planting her lips on his. At first Greg was stunned and he almost blanked on what to do before he came to his senses and gave into the kiss. They were like that for what seemed like days before pulling apart for air. They put their foreheads against each other and smiled breathlessly.

"Wow," Greg said. "I've been wanting to do that for two years…but it was _so_ worth the wait."

"I agree."

They were silent for a moment before Greg chuckled.

"What?"

"I just remembered that you still owe me one from earlier."

"Don't you think I just did?" Morgan smirked.

"Touché, Morgan, touché."

**Fin**

**REVIEWS AND PROMPTS!**


	13. The Other Brotherly Protector

**The Other Brotherly Protector**

**Hi again! Hope you all enjoyed the last installment! And don't forget to check out my new story 'Summer of Hurt Mike' if you are into Suits! Also, don't forget 'Buried Alive!' Here's the next story! Enjoy!**

_**Chapter Info: For **__**OtakuSAnime101: 'You should do one with a super protective Warrick or Grissom. Or even better, Hodges or the other lab rats.'**_** I chose to do a protective Warrick! Hope you like it!**

Greg sighed heavily as he finished up with Warrick's evidence. He didn't know what it was- whether it was Nick taking a vacation in Texas after his 'buried alive' ordeal, or if Warrick was just pissed all the time now- but the guy had yelled at him earlier for no reason. Sara had come to his defense, but that didn't mean those hurtful words would go away. And there was only one explanation for that; Warrick _hated _him. He had told Nick this before and the guy said he was just being paranoid, but he knew he wasn't. It was the little things that indicated hinted the man's anger towards him. The way he scoffed and rolled his eyes when Greg would talk about something or give him a disgusted look every time he tried to do something funny. He'd actually thought the guy was a second big brother to him; he _actually_ seemed like he cared after the explosion. Maybe he had been so drugged up that day that he was imagining things. He really missed Nick; he was the only one who really cared. He was his only big brother. He wiped his face and closed his eyes until he heard footsteps behind him.

"Here's some more evidence, Sanders; I need it done ASAP."

Greg opened his eyes and saw another huge pile of evidence bags. "But-"

"Don't 'but' me, kid. I'm telling you what to do, now do it!"

"Warrick, it's not that easy; you aren't the only one that-"

"Well, then multitask, idiot! Geez, it's not rocket surgery; what's the point of you working here if you gonna be a worthless, whiny bitch about everything! God, why don't you just quit and find a job for babies or something?" With that, Warrick stormed out of the room, leaving Greg speechless and feeling extremely hurt. How could Warrick say that to him? Sniffing and trying to hold the tears at bay, Greg returned to his work, wanting to get everything done as soon as possible so he could go home…get away from here for a while…get away from Warrick who seemed to absolutely fucking _loathe_ him for some reason.

**Three Hours Later**

Greg wrapped his jacket around his body tightly, the morning air surprisingly chilly. And he was so occupied with his thoughts, desperately wanting to go home and sleep that he never noticed two homeless guys following him to his car. There had been no space in the parking lot, so he'd been forced to park on the side of the road, a ways away from the lab. It was still early morning so the sun was still rising and it was still pretty dark. Just as he was about to reach his car when he felt a strong hand roughly grab his arm. Startled, he turned around and saw two grimy men staring at him with nearly toothless smiles.

"Hey pretty boy," one of them said before Greg ripped away from the hold, stumbling back. "Let's go back to my place and get it on."

"L-Leave me alone." He was scared out of his mind right now, but he wouldn't show them that. Before he could get away, though, he was pulled back once again, almost face to face with the man. He shrunk away at the putrid stench of his breath, holding in the whimper of disgust.

"That wasn't a question, boy."

Everything suddenly went by in a flash as he was hurled into the other man's arms and dragged into an alleyway. He tried with all his might to fight them off, but the two were surprisingly strong and he was scrawny and weak.

"No…please don't."

"We're gonna have fun, kid. Just sit back and take it," one laughed throatily. He punched Greg in the jaw and eye, eliciting yelps of pain from the kid. But it just made them more excited.

Greg was thrown down to the ground, slamming his head on the tar and causing his vision to double. His limbs felt like lead and he knew that this was it; and Warrick was dead-on with his statement, he was worthless and an idiot. He was about to be screwed and there was nothing he could do about it.

~+CSI+~

Warrick let out a puff of smoke with a sigh of relaxation. Today had not been a good day; Nick was gone so it was boring as hell and he was stuck with Sanders. But he thought back and realized that he might've been too harsh with the kid. He was just trying to brighten up the mood with his antics. And he had to admit, some of them were pretty funny. Now he felt _really_ guilty; he had seen the hurt look on the kid's face when he'd said the horrible things and he just ignored it. Nick would be pissed if he had heard him; Greg was Nick's little brother…to him as well. Warrick scoffed. He was some piss-poor brother. Maybe he should apologize…and maybe take him out for a drink; some quality sibling bonding. Warrick glanced at his watch and figured the kid would be leaving by now. Throwing the cigarette on the ground and squishing it with his toe, he was about to go in when he heard shouts come from down the road. Frowning he moved closer and saw three guys…one of them was Greg and he looked petrified.

"L-Leave me alone," he said, trying to be brave. _Damn he underestimated the guy._ He broke out into a run after Greg tried to get away and failed, being pushed into the other guy's arms and dragged into an alley. _Nick would never forgive me if I let something bad happen to the kid._ When he got to the alley, he could heard fists against flesh and Greg sobbing. The homeless guys were on top of Greg who was squirming under the men's touches. And with a surge of anger, Warrick bolted over and started to beat the shit out of them.

"Get the hell away from him you perverted bastards!" With all his might, he knocked the two men out cold. Breathing heavily, he stood up straight with a disgusted look on his face before turning to Greg who was on the ground, getting rid of the evidence that showed he was crying.

"You okay man? They…they do anything?" Warrick held out his hand, waiting for Greg to take it.

"Yeah…yeah I'm good. And n-no, they didn't do anything." Greg ignored it and pushed himself into a shaky stand, hugging himself around the waist. A few tears escaped his eyes and he stubbornly wiped them away even though Warrick had already seen them.

Warrick pursed his lips, looking at the extremely pale kid. _Was he lying?_ "Greg, you sure man?" Warrick started to put a hand on Greg's shoulder but the man jerked away violently

"I said I was fine! It's not like you care anyways! You hate me remember?" With that, Greg started walking quickly away, back towards this car, wanting to forget all about this event.

Warrick looked sadly at his friend. It hurt that he had made the kid thought he was hated and he wanted to make it right. Be a real big brother. He caught up and gently grabbed the man's arm, pulling him back.

"Greg stop."

"Warrick-" he could hear the tears coming; the dam was breaking.

"Come here, kid." With that, he brought Greg to his chest and hugged him tightly. "It'll be okay. Nothing happened and you're safe. The lab rat started heaving sobs into his shirt, making it damp; but Warrick didn't care. If it was comforting the guy, it made him feel better. He was gonna change from now on; he was gonna be a big brother to both Nick and Greg.

"I'm sorry, man; I'm sorry I've been such a jerk to you the past week," he whispered, rubbing circles onto the man's back. They stood like that for at least eight minutes before Greg pulled away, wiping the wetness off his cheeks.

"S-Sorry 'bout your shirt."

"It can be washed, man." And then he noticed Greg winced when he touched his cheek and by his eye. He also noticed the busted lip and he wondered why he didn't see that before. "Let's go back in the lab and get you cleaned up."

"'Kay." Warrick kept a steady hand on Greg's back as they made their way back inside and towards the break room. And they were both glad Catherine had left already or she would be all 'mother hen' on Greg…and he hated that…sometimes. Warrick sat the blonde down before going to the freezer and taking out an ice pack. Going back over to Greg, he handed it to him and sat down, folding his arms in front of him. Greg put the ice pack over the tender spot, grimacing a little, but finally letting the cold soothe his injury.

"You sure you're okay? Looks like that's gonna bruise later."

"For the last time, _mom, _yes. Just a little shaken up. I could've been…I could've been…"

"You don't have to say it, kid. I get it."

Greg smiled weakly before his eyes went to the floor, seeming really interested in the carpet fibers. Warrick smiled too and sighed. "I meant what I said back there, kid. I'm really sorry for the way I've been acting towards you."

"Warrick-"

"No listen; you're like a little brother to me and so is Nick…and I haven't been acting like a big brother at all. I apologize, man."

Greg sighed heavily, leaning back on the couch. "There's no need for an apology, but I'll accept it."

"Thanks, buddy." Warrick gently patted Greg's arm before leaning back. They sat in silent for a moment before Warrick chuckled.

"What?" Greg smiled tiredly.

"You do know Nick is gonna flip shit when he sees you like that?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "Yep."

"But that's what big brothers are for."

**FIN! Hope you liked it! REVIEWS+PROMPTS **

**Next story: for Lil Badger 101**


	14. Left For Dead Part I

**Left for Dead**

**Thanks everyone for the awesome reviews and prompts! Here's the next chapter; Enjoy! **

_**Chapter Info: For Lil Badger 101: How about **__**Greg getting lost/stranded in the desert. **_**Set in early season six.**

Greg knew that something was wrong the second he started regaining consciousness. He felt like he was in trapped in an oven, his throat was parched and his head was pounding. He went to go wipe the sweat off his face when he realized his hands were bound together in front of him. _Just my luck._ He blinked his eyes open sluggishly and squinted at the bright sunlight burning his retinas.

"The hell?" But talking was a bad idea, because it caused him to start coughing violently. He rolled onto his elbows and knees, trying to catch his breath. And after what seemed like hours, he finally caught a break. Breathless and his ribs throbbing in pain, he looked up and dread overcame him; there was nothing but desert, desert and more desert. All around him for miles and miles. Greg coughed as he stumbled into a hunched stand, looking in each direction; there wasn't even a fucking road! He was so confused and he was stranded in the middle of nowhere, let alone if he was even in Las Vegas anymore. The wind suddenly picked up and it knocked his weak body back into a crumpled position in the dirt. His head hit the barren ground hard and Greg groaned in pain, feeling extremely nauseous; he shivered despite the nearly 100 degree weather. His mind was a total blank and he really wanted to know how and why he was abandoned in the desert…alone. _What the hell happened?_

**24 Hours Earlier**

Greg sighed as he looked down at the ground in the locker room. Today had _not_ been a good day. He had messed up on the case which caused another victim to be killed. He was also punched in the face by a potential suspect, so now he was sporting a nice shiner around his eye. God, he couldn't do anything right. Ecklie was sure to fire him soon and no doubt Nick and Warrick would make fun of him and say he should be back in the lab. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall; he refused to be seen as baby Greg. He sniffed, swallowing his pain and looking up at the ceiling.

"Greggo?" _Nick._

He didn't want to look at the man; if Nick got one look at him, he'd a) laugh at him or b) know something was up…and get mad. He looked away, but knew it wouldn't be that easy. Nick never let things go when it came to all things serious.

"Greg, you alright man?"

"Yeah…yeah, I'm good, Nick."

"Greg, you know I can tell when you're lying." Nick moved into the locker room, standing near his best friend, though the kid still wouldn't look at him. "Hey, look at me."

"Nick, I said I'm fine."

"Alright, then there's no reason for you not to look at me."

Rolling his eyes, Greg begrudgingly swiveled his head and came face to face with the Texan. A look of shock and then anger flashed across Nick's face and Greg knew this wasn't gonna be good. He liked having an older and protective brother, but sometimes it could get out of hand…especially when he got hurt.

"Son of a bitch," Nick muttered. The bruise was big and it looked recent. "Who did this to you? I'm gonna rip their friggin lungs out!"

"Nick, I'm okay now."

"You're not," Nick clenched his fists. "And after I'm done kicking the bastard's ass, the guy who did it isn't gonna be either."

"Please…just let it go," Greg pleaded tiredly. He really wasn't in the mood.

"No, that's not who I am."

Greg looked at his feet and mumbled. "I deserved it, Nick…so please just let it go. This day has been bad enough already."

Nick's features softened and he sat down next to Greg. "What are you talking about man?"

Greg shook his head. "I screwed up…like I always do. I messed up the case and now someone died, because of me."

"Shit, Greg. I'm sorry."

The blonde smiled weakly, still keeping his gaze on the ground. "It's not your fault…it's mine."

"Listen G, we all mess up a case now and then; it's nothing you can help. Do remember what Gris told you when you became a CSI? He said he doesn't always expect you to get it right all the time. You got the evidence, dude, and that's what really matters…and you _definitely_ did not deserve it."

"Yeah, but someone _died_ because I didn't get it right this time. That's gonna be on my conscience for the rest of my life."

Nick looked at his friend sadly before placing a hand on the kid's back. "You know what you need…what we _both_ need? A guy's night out, right now, you and me, at the bar."

Greg smiled. "Nick-"

"Ah, ah, no being a party-pooper. Come on, we haven't hung out in ages."

Greg thought about it for a minute and realized he did need this. Something to get this horrible day off his mind for a while. "Alright…but only because you know you need a wingman to set you up with the ladies." The two stood up and grabbed their jackets, heading out into the hallway.

"Hey, I know how to reel in a woman on my own, thank you very much."

"Sure…then prove it."

"You're on, buddy."

~+CSI+~

"You're right, Nick, this is just what I needed," Greg smiled as he tipped his head back and let the alcohol run down his throat.

"See, I told you, man. And tomorrow will be a better day…I promise." _If only he knew how wrong he'd be._

The two CSI's chatted for a bit about the job and if there was anything else that was bothering Greg…and there had been. Greg's Grandpa Olaf had passed a couple days ago and the kid just found out about it earlier. Talk about a bad day.

"Geez, buddy, I'm so sorry."

Greg sniffed, feeling a little light-headed from all the alcohol. He was trying to drown his sorrows and failures, but Nick was making sure he didn't consume too much. The man shook his head and sighed. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by gunshots inside the building. Out of instinct, Nick pulled his gun and Greg crouched down, not having one of his own because he never liked them…maybe he should start carrying them now.

"Everybody down on the ground and no one gets hurt!" A burly man with goatee said.

"LVPD! Put the gun down!" Nick shouted.

Greg was breathing heavily, scared out of his mind. He wasn't trained for this type of stuff…not yet anyways. God, this day just sucked out loud.

"_You_ put the gun down, pig." The other guy looked around and then grabbed the girl nearest to him. She screamed but her voice was cut off when the man tightened his arm around her throat. "Or she dies."

Nick gulped, giving a sideways glance to Greg. He slightly moved to the side to keep the young man behind him. Nothing was gonna happen to his little brother; not on his watch…or ever.

"What do you want?" Nick growled.

"Money…all of it. From every single one of you _and_ from the register or she dies."

Before Nick could say anything, people started emptying their pockets and the bartender shakily opened the drawer and put the money in a bag the taller man was providing. When the guys came up to the CSI's, he nearly towered over Nick.

"Money…now."

Sneering, Nick kept the gun in one hand before emptying his pocket and throwing the loose bills at the man. He was fully calm…up until the robber noticed Greg.

"Trying to hide from us, aren't we?"

Greg gulped, looking up at Nick.

"Empty your pockets."

"I don't…I don't have any money."

"You're a bad liar, kid. Now give me the money!"

"I swear I don't have any."

"Greg," Nick said cautiously. "Give him the money, okay? I'll pay you back."

"Nick, I don't have-" but before he could finish, Greg was roughly pulled by the arm from behind the stool and out into the open. "Let the girl go, Niko. We've got a cop instead."

Greg struggled against the man's tight hold while Nick struggled to keep his cool. They were gonna hurt his little brother and that was not okay with him.

"Alright, let's go; we're taking him as leverage. You can find him later…but I can't guarantee it'll be a rescue." With that, the man chuckled evilly and started towards the back door.

"Greg no!"

"Ni-" But before he could finish, the man squeezed Greg's throat tightly.

Nick watched in horror as Greg struggled to breathe before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his entire body went limp. And when Greg was slung carelessly on the robber's shoulder, he took a step forward, wanting to punch the guy straight in the nose.

"Stay back or pretty boy gets it."

His heart beat painfully against his chest as he was forced to watch his little brother- the one he was supposed to protect with his life- be carried away and out the back door. The other = guy stayed until his friend disappeared before he backed out slowly.

"If anyone follows," and then he pointed to the Texan. "Or if you try to be a hero, your friend will be dead in an instant. So make the right choice."

Nick reluctantly remained still, not wanting to be the cause of Greg's death.

"Good. Thank you all for your kind service." He shot his gun once more before running after his partner. As soon as they were gone, Nick ran out the back door just in time to see the car peel around the corner. His legs went weak and he fell to his knees on the wet tar; tears began to form in his eyes before he slammed both his fists on the ground. Greg was gone and it was his fault. He had failed to protect his little brother and now Greg might die.

~+CSI+~

He could tell he was in a small space; it was just the feeling. It was hot and stuffy and he had no recollection of where he was or why. Groaning weakly, Greg blinked his eyes open and was met with total darkness. At first, the worst thought came to mind and he thought that maybe he'd been buried alive like Nick had. He started to panic and his breathing turned into frantic gasps. He knew that this wasn't gonna help though and he closed his eyes, trying to be calm. When he finally- somewhat- relaxed, the young CSI opened his eyes and sat up, trying to make out his surroundings. However, he was stopped short when he head made contact with a hard metal surface.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, laying back down and trying to let the nausea pass. However, he knew that he was in a very bad place right now. His neck felt tight which made it a lot more difficult to breathe. The low hum coming from beneath him made him realize he was in a trunk…which was a bad thing, because he was about six feet tall and Las Vegas was one of the hottest places in the world. So he was basically being cooked alive right now. Coughing, Greg rolled onto his back and banged his fists on the roof of the trunk.

"Hey!" He yelled out, his throat parched and neck pulsing. He vaguely remembered being strangled in front of his best friend and others in the bar, but anything before or after that was a complete blank. "What the hell do you want from me? Let me out!" When he heard nothing, he started to kick…as much as he could in his hunched position. "Let me the hell out, you bastards!"

"Hey kid, shut the fuck up! We'll let you go when we want to let you go!"

"No! Tell me what you want!" _Please._ He didn't want to show his kidnappers fear, assuming that they wanted that from him.

"You know if I were you, kid, I'd stop talking. You may not have a lot of air in there." He heard an evil chuckle and he had to admit they were right. He was wasting precious oxygen by yelling. Breathing slowly, he closed his eyes, feeling tears start to well up; this couldn't be happening. He was trapped in the trunk of a car, sweltering, thirsty, tired and in pain.

"Please," he was desperate. He knew that if he didn't get out of here, he was gonna suffocate or die of extreme heat. "Just let me go."

"We'll let you go when you're dead," one of his kidnappers said.

Greg turned back onto his side and started to cry. He was gonna die; his life was over. He let out muffled, shuddering sobs before falling back into unconsciousness…because that was the only place that was cold and the only place he found solace away from this horrible nightmare.

The next time he woke up, he knew that this was a lot worse than being stuck in a trunk. He was in the middle of nowhere with the hot sun beating down on him. He knew he was gonna get a sunburn…a _really_ bad one at that. The kidnappers had left him for dead out in this desert and there was no way his team was gonna find him. And Nick…god he hoped nothing bad happened to the guy, because if something did, Greg would never forgive himself if Nick got hurt and he'd been too weak to save him. Stupid! Why did he have to be so useless?

"I'm sorry Nick," he sniffed, curling into a fetal position. But he knew that laying on the ground wouldn't help his situation. He needed to get these binds off and find a way to safety even though it was highly unlikely. Groaning in pain, Greg pushed himself up, breathing heavily and started walking in the direction he thought was north…he didn't know, he was too exhausted already to care. He looked ahead of him with sheer devastation; there was miles and miles of sand and sun. He would be surprised if he made it even three miles without collapsing. The road to help was a long ways away but the road to death was just right around the corner.

~+CSI+~

Nick paced the break room, nervous and extremely pissed at himself. He should've protected Greg better, he should've offered himself up. The kid shouldn't be going through whatever the hell he was enduring right now. Nick deserved it more than Greg, because the guy was having a bad day already…that was what made Nick angrier. He was the one who made Greg go out; the kid was hesitant and Nick practically forced him. Now look where it got them all. Brass had gotten everyone from the bar to the lab for questioning, though Nick had already given him a good description of the guys. So why were they wasting their time when they should be looking for Greg.

"God." He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a shaky breath.

"Nicky?"

The Texan looked up and saw Catherine standing in the doorway with a sad smile on her face. "Hey Cath."

She moved in closer. "How're you doing?"

"Not good; I mean, why is Brass questioning people? Greg is out there with two psychos and we're wasting our time."

"It's all part of standard procedure, sweetie." She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"When the hell have we ever gone by standard procedure?"

"Yeah…you're right; but don't worry, Greg's tougher than he looks and we'll find him."

"I hope so."

All of sudden Brass knocked on the door frame. "We got a lead."

Both Catherine and Nick shared a look before following Brass down the hall and to his office. When they all sat down, the older man sighed heavily.

"Well, what's the lead?" The Texan said impatiently.

"Nicky, I have good news and bad news. Good news is, the bartender recognized the men and we put out a BOLO. Surprisingly enough, they were caught trying to cross the Mexican border."

Nick forgot all about the bad news and sighed in relief. Those two bastards were caught and were gonna get an ass-whooping from him before they were thrown in jail. "So Greg's okay, right?"

"That's the bad news; Sanders wasn't in the car with them."

Nick's heart sunk to the floor. There was only one reason why the guys would get rid of Greg. They had killed him and dumped his body in the middle of nowhere to rot. "Oh god. This can't be happening."

"We'll find him, Nick," Jim reassured.

"But what if he's dead! They were just using him as leverage and once they were far enough, they probably put him down like a sick dog! God, this is all my fault." Nick got up and stormed off to the locker room, not wanting to think about anything anymore. Catherine and Brass shared a concerned look, worried about their friend.

"We're tracing the way the two came from and hopefully we'll come across the kid," Brass continued.

Catherine stood up. "Okay…I just hope this is a rescue not a recovery."

"You and me both."

As Catherine walked away, she shed a couple tears and prayed that their Greg would be okay. If they lost Greg to something like this, the blunt of the death and the guilt would destroy the Texan, possibly even kill him. Greg was the little brother Nick sworn to protect. _Please be okay, Greg. Just hang on; we're gonna find you._

**TBC**

** Doing another two part story! Stay tuned to see what happens to our poor Greggo! Will he ever get found or will he fall victim to the hot desert?**


	15. Left for Dead Part II

**Left for Dead Part II**

**Sorry I've kept you waiting. Computer screen broke, had to fix it, and also had writers block. But Anyways, here's part two! Enjoy!**

Left, right, left, right. He was so hot and his throat was dry; he wasn't even sweating anymore which told him that he was severely dehydrated. Maybe he should just cut his losses and let himself die. He was never gonna be found; there were miles and miles of desert and it'd be impossible for the team to find him before he succumbed to death. Coughing violently, Greg's knees became weak once more and he dropped to the ground for what felt like the hundredth time during his journey. He didn't even know how long it'd been or what time it was; his watch was gone, courtesy of the thieves and all he had were the clothes on his back. He squinted up at the sky and groaned; even if it became nightfall, he'd still be in trouble. The desert was freezing during the night not to mention the animals that would be prowling about for food. He had never been in boy scouts and never had to face anything else similar to this; his mom was always there to keep him safe...god what he would give to see his mom right now. Be in her arms instead of this nightmare of a desert. Closing his eyes, Greg thought of his mom's voice; she wouldn't want him to give up. No one would want him to give up. Inhaling shakily, Greg pushed himself back up and continued to walk in the scorching heat. He kept his head down, not wanting to see where he was or how far he had to go. He was doing fine until he tripped over a rock, realizing he was near the mountains.

"Oomph." Once he was down, Greg knew it was gonna be harder to get back up. His entire body was sore from being folded in that trunk for god knows how long and the heat wasn't making anything easier. He closed his eyes for a moment...until he felt something crawling on his arm. His heart beat fast against his chest, fearful to see what it was. He prayed it was just a beetle...but nothing was ever simple for him. It was a scorpion.

_Just stay still, Greg and it will leave as fast as it came. _Greg breathed out, staring at the arthropod nervously. He didn't need more difficulty on his plate; if he was bitten...all of a sudden, a bird came swooping down...frightening the scorpion.

"No!" And before he could shake the insect off, it's tail flicked back with lightening speed, stabbing him on his forearm. The pain was immediate as white flashed in front of his eyes. Tears built up as he brought his throbbing arm to his chest. Greg's breaths came in labored gasps and he knew that if he wasn't rescued soon, he was gonna die out here.

~+CSI+~

"Where the hell is he?" Nick growled angrily at one of the robbers known as Clarence Masters.

"I swear to god I don't know!"

"And I _swear to god_ that if you don't tell me where you dumped him, I will come across this table and strangle you."

"Nicky," Brass warned, placing a hand on the Texan's shoulder. He was equally pissed at this guy and his accomplice who hurt a friend, but threatening wasn't gonna get them anywhere.

"Was he alive when you last saw him?"

"Yes! We didn't kill him, we just-"

"Left him to die in the desert," Nick sneered. "You son of a bitch!" He jumped up, knocking the chair back and reaching across the table.

"Nick, stand down!" Brass shouted as two officers came and restrained the Texan, pulling him back.

Nick struggled against the holds, wanting to take a swing at the man's face. "If he's dead, I swear to you, you won't be able to taste your own blood after I'm done beating you up!"

"Nick, you're done; get out of here."

The Texan ripped away from the officers and straightened himself out before leaving the interrogation room, fuming with rage. Those bastards were cold-hearted dicks! What was worse than dying right away? Suffering from extreme heat and thirst, slowly dying in the middle of nowhere...alone. Nick went to the break room and collapsed on the couch, wiping a hand down his face. He couldn't lose Greg; he was his little brother and besides Warrick and Sara, he was the only sibling he had left...actually he was the only _younger_ sibling he had left. Ever since he met Greg, he always had to protect him; he never had that chance with his real family seeing that he was the youngest. So now when he had his chance, he completely failed. He was a terrible older brother.

"God, G I'm so sorry I let this happen to you. Please...please just hang on wherever you are."

He laid his head back and closed his eyes; but they didn't stay closed for long. Images of Greg getting kidnapped and finding him dead in the desert with animals feasting on his corpse made his heart pound and his eyes snap back open. He couldn't let that happen; he wouldn't. Greg was gonna survive, he would make sure of it.

"Nick."

He looked up and saw Warrick standing in the doorway, along with Sara and Catherine. "We think we might know what area Greg might've been dumped in. Catherine and Sara are going in the chopper; we got the road. You ready?"

Nick took a deep breath as he stood up. "Yeah; let's go."

Warrick smiled sadly, clapping his friend on the back. "We'll find him, Nick; we're gonna get him back."

"Damn straight, 'Rick. Greggo's strong; I know he can survive this." But Nick was starting to get worried; it was getting late which meant it would get dark. And even though he knew his little brother was strong, no one could survive the desert at night.

~+CSI+~

It was so. Fucking. Hot. He couldn't breath, his arm was tingling and burning and he was feeling extremely nauseous. He could feel his heart beating in his ears and he knew that it was a bad thing. He whimpered, curling in on himself even more.

"I'm sorry Mom...I'm sorry Nick," he cried. He wasn't gonna make it. He was done for.

Greg blinked opened his eyes and gasped. "Ni-Nick?"

"Greg...hey, buddy."

Greg smiled weakly, sitting up with his whole body trembling. "Nick...Nick, you found me."

The smile disappeared from the Texan's face. "Greg, I'm not real...you're hallucinating."

"No...no, you're right there, you're real."

"I'm sorry man...but please, don't give up. You will be found, I promise. Just please keep going."

Greg bowed his head, crying dryly. He was so dehydrated that he couldn't even shed tears. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and he looked up.

"Nick...please, you have to be real."

"I wish I was, kiddo. Get up...keep walking. Promise me you won't give up?"

Greg remained silent.

"Greg, promise me. I'm not gonna lose you."

"I pr-promise."

"Now wake up...wake up...wake-"

Greg's eyes snapped open as he gasped. He looked around for his best friend, but then remembered it had been a hallucination...or a dream. Either way Nick wasn't there and he was alone once again. However, he promised mirage Nick that he'd keep going, no matter what. And it was only then did he realize the sun was going down.

"Crap." Now he _really _had to get going. Grunting, Greg rolled to his hands and knees, ready to push himself up. But once he put any pressure on his right hand, his arm went weak and he started to tip over. His right arm was useless. He tried again without using his bitten arm and after a couple minutes, he was back on his feet.

"Nick if I die walking I'm gonna kill you," Greg muttered. Dragging his feet, he started slowly climbing up the hill. It seemed like hours, but when he finally got his gaze off the ground, he made it to the top. The sun was setting faster now but when he looked around to see if he could see a road from the height he was at... but there was nothing. Still more desert and still more walking. Choking a sob and feeling completely hopeless, Greg continued to walk anyways, breathing heavily. He glanced down at his arm and noticed it was extremely red and swollen. The sting area was elevated above all the rest and his arm was slightly twitching. He prayed to god that it wasn't gonna have to be amputated; right now, it'd be worse than dying. His arms were everything; he _needed _his hands for his job. The job that he loved so much; without it, he was nothing. As Greg kept walking, he kept telling himself that someone would find him, that he'd be home in no time. But the longer he walked and the darker it got, he was starting to feel doubtful. He knew that if he wasn't found before it got completely dark, he wouldn't survive the night and the team would be finding his corpse. And to add to his miseries, he was starting to get really tired and cold; he could barely even keep his eyes open. He really couldn't do this anymore. His chest was tight, his head hurt, his throat hurt, _everything_ hurt. He failed...and he lied to Nick. He couldn't keep going like this...wherever he was going. He was seeing double and everything was spinning around him.

"I'm so sorry Nick, s-so s'ry." With that, he collapsed besides a nearby bush, unconscious and barely alive. He knew that'd it would probably be the last time he closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Warrick was slowly driving down the highway where Greg was supposedly last seen. Nick was in the passenger seat, biting the inside of his cheek and carefully looking out the window. They needed to hurry; Greg was running out of time and _they_ were running out of daylight.

"Come on G, where are you?" They drove for what seemed like hours, seeing nothing but barren land and mountains. They passed a mountain and Nick wondered if Greg had to climb that or if he even made it that far...or what if he went a different way? That'd be a problem. A _huge_ problem.

"Where the hell could he be?"

"Don't worry man, we're gonna find the kid."

The Texan took in a shaky breath, keeping his eye out for the blonde; there was barely any light left and he just wished that-

"Slow down, slow down!" He shouted, slapping Warrick on the arm.

"What? What did you see."

"I'm...I thought I just saw a bush move."

"Nick, it's probably just an animal or the wind or something."

"Yeah, Warrick; 'or something' could mean Greg. Turn down there, we're not taking any chances."

Sighing heavily, Warrick turned the wheel and started driving on the land. Nick took out his flashlight and a water bottle just in case and told Warrick to stop, keeping his eyes on that one bush that seemed so important right now. Turning it on, he raised his light and jumped out of the SUV. As he got closer, he could tell that something was huddled underneath the shrub...a figure. Greg.

"Greg!" His heart raced as he sprinted over to the man, shining the light on Greg's prone body. "Greggo!" Skidding to his knees, he felt tears build up in his eyes with joy; but he couldn't celebrate just yet. What if the kid wasn't breathing? Because it sure as hell didn't look like he was.

"Warrick radio the medevac!" He barked while looking for a pulse. "Come on G, don't do this to me." There was no pulse. "Oh god no. Please no. Greg!" He started pouring water over Greg's burned body, not even noticing the bite. "Greg, please wake up."

"I hear the helicopter," Warrick said, standing next to Nick. "Just hang on Greg, you're gonna be okay...oh damn."

Nick looked up in alarm. "What? What is it?"

Warrick shone his light over Greg's arm and swore aloud. "That's a scorpion bite...and it looks bad."

Nick looked back at his unconscious friend with horror and then at the man's arm. It was completely red and swollen, twice as large as his other arm. Why couldn't the kid catch a break? He didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve any of this shit.

"God Greg." He continued pouring more water onto the man's body, silently praying in a mantra. They had found Greg but only to lose him once again.

Suddenly, he was moved aside by the paramedic and only then did he noticed the chopper had landed.

"What's his name!?" Shouted the medic over the loud noise of the rudders.

"Greg!"

"Alright! Greg! Greg can you hear me?"

Nick watched as the medic lifted up the kid's eyelids. "No pupil reaction, blood pressure and pulse are extremely low." Another paramedic came rushing over as well as Catherine and Sara.

"Hand me the oxygen mask! We need to get him to the hospital stat and treat that bite."

A mask was gently put onto Greg's face while Nick was holding the kid's limp hand tightly. An I.V was placed in his uninjured arm and then connected to a saline bag.

"Oh Greg," Catherine whispered when she got a glimpse of the man she considered a son. "Please don't leave us."

Carefully, Greg's body was rolled onto the stretcher while the paramedic handed Nick the bag. As they lifted Greg up and started walking towards the helicopter, Nick ran his fingers through his little brother's sweaty, spiked up hair. He prayed it'd bring the man back to them...to help him realize that he was safe now. Quickly, Greg was lifted into the helicopter and before anyone could argue, Nick jumped in with them.

"Where are you taking him!?" Catherine shouted.

"Desert Palm!" The medic yelled back. "Step back, we need to go now!"

Reluctantly, Catherine, Warrick and Sara moved back a few feet and the paramedic shut the door. With that, the medevac took off into the air and the three CSI's were praying that it wouldn't be the last time they saw their youngest alive.

~+CSI+~

Nick hung the saline bag on the rack before looking past the medics and at his little brother. The kid was a mess. Blood caked the side of his head, most likely from a concussion, his face was covered in dirt, blood, and sweat not to mention the bad sunburn he obtained over almost his entire body. His breathing was barely existent and if Nick didn't look at the portable heart monitor, he would've sworn the man was dead. And then there was the arm; his arm look horrible and he prayed amputation wouldn't be in the agenda. Greg couldn't lose his arm. Pursing his lips sadly, Nick leaned forward and grabbed Greg's hand, squeezing it gently.

"Come on, Greggo. Please just open your eyes for me." He rested his hand on top of Greg's. "Please." He waited. He prayed. But nothing happened. Greg was lost to the outside world. Nick ran a hand down his sweaty face, feeling very anxious at the moment. Greg was near death; the scorpion bite didn't look recent which meant bad news for the kid. The venom must've spread over his entire body by now. As he looked at Greg's face again, he gasped in surprise.

"Greggo?" The kid's eyes had started fluttering open, revealing tired, glassy brown orbs. Nick smiled weakly, squeezing the small hand again. "Hey buddy."

Greg blinked sluggishly rolling his head on the pillow to get a better look at the Texan.

"Can you hear me Greg?"

The blonde swallowed thickly, his breathing becoming erratic. "N-ngh..." he choked out, his voice muffled by the mask. Nick moved closer, trying to hear what was being said.

"What?"

"N-Not...r-real."

Nick frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Y-Your n't real...h-hallucin..."

"Greg, it's really me, man. I'm right here; you're-"

Suddenly the monitors started beeping like crazy and before the Texan knew it, Greg's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body began shuddering.

"He's crashing!"

"Oh god," Nick whispered. Greg was dying; his little brother was dying right in front of him and there was nothing he could do. He felt so fucking helpless! "Greggo, please don't do this to me; you gotta hang on. You gotta hang on for _me_ bud."

"Inject him with epinephrine! If we lose him we may never get him back."

Hearing this made Nick's blood run cold. "Come on Greg, keep fighting. Fight, G! Don't give up on me now. I know you can do this; I know you're strong enough, just hold on." _Please, Greggo._

~+CSI+~

Six hours. The team was sitting or pacing in the waiting room for six hours. The nurse kept telling them the doctor would be out soon and they each kept reassuring themselves no news was good news. But Nick wasn't so sure about that; they'd barely been able to get Greg back in the copter. He had stopped breathing when they landed and he witnessed a tube being shoved down the kid's throat. Something he never wanted to see happen to someone so young. Grissom had shown up after prosecuting the two guys who created this mess and truth be told, he seemed devastated too. Greg was the life of the team; the life of the _lab _and losing him would make everything miserable. Plus no telling what it would do to the Texan; guilt was already weighing him down greatly.

"Nicky, he's gonna be okay," Catherine whispered, rubbing circles on the younger man's back. "He's a fighter."

"I know," he choked, his bottom lip almost trembling. "I know."

"Family of Greg Sanders?"

They all snapped their heads up and Nick pushed himself from the chair, going over to the older looking man. "Nick Stokes, I'm one of Greg's emergency contacts. H-How is he?"

The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile. "Why don't we go sit down."

That didn't sound good; that _really_ didn't sound good. "Please, tell me," Nick said nervously as he and the doctor sat down with the team. "He's not...he's not dead is he?"

"Nick, I'm very sorry to say, but Greg's fighting for his life right now. If it weren't for the venom and if the treatment hadn't been prolonged, it wouldn't be so difficult. However, since the scorpion bite wasn't taken care of immediately, the venom spread throughout his entire body, thus making his condition worse."

"Oh god," Nick said, his voice cracking with emotion. Greg was _really_ dying.

"He's suffering from respiratory and cardiac failure along with his other complications like severe dehydration, a minor concussion and a couple of cuts and bruises. Now, we're doing everything we can to save his life, I promise you. We have him on dialysis, filtering the blood and cleaning out of the venom. Hopefully that will help along with a special antivenin called Anascorp; studies show it to be effective within four hours of being administered, so we just have to wait and see."

Nick inhaled, rubbing his sore eyes. He sniffed and looked at the team before asking the question they were all thinking of. "Can we, um, can we see him?"

The doctor smiled sadly. "Of course; follow me."

So many thoughts were running through everyone's head; fearful of what they might see. And Nick thought Greg looked like crap when they found him, he seemed to look a lot worse when they saw him lying in that hospital bed, broken and small. There were two large machines on each side of the young CSI's bed; one for the dialysis, Greg's blood running through the catheters, and the other that was connected to large tubes, running into Greg's slack mouth, pumping oxygen into his unresponsive lungs. So many wires were running in and out of Greg's body and it made the Texan sick. A thick bandage was wrapped carefully around the blonde's right arm and Nick was glad for that; he didn't want to have to see how bad the bite looked. However, he didn't care about that stuff; all he cared about was the heart monitor. It was beeping normally and that's what mattered...that it was there. Greg was alive. _For now._

"I'll leave you be and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask the nurse at the station. But I'll have to ask that only there be two at a time in the room."

"Nicky, you can go," Catherine said quietly. "You want me to go in with you?"

"Yeah." He definitely needed someone in there with him; he didn't know if he could face Greg's condition alone.

"Alright, lets go." Slowly, they made their way further into the dimly lit room and Nick immediately sat in the chair next to his little brother, carefully taking his hand. "Oh Greggo. I'm so sorry I let this happen to you."

"Nick, this wasn't your fault; you couldn't have know this was gonna happen."

"Yeah, but I should've protected him better when we were at the bar."

"You said it yourself, Nick, Greg had a gun to his head. If you did anything we wouldn't be here right now. We'd be down in autopsy. So it is not. Your. Fault."

Nick remained silent, not really having anything to say to that. He looked at Greg, taking in all the man's injuries; _he_ should've been the one to endure the nightmare Greg did. He should've been the one nearly strangled and kidnapped from the bar. Greg didn't need this at all. Not after the lab explosion three years ago. Catherine sighed, running her fingers through Greg's _flat_ blonde hair; it looked so foreign to her now that it wasn't styled "the Sanders way."

"So, we have four hours to kill until we know if Greg will...survive," Catherine said, looking up at the Texan. "Do you want some coffee?"

Nick smiled weakly. "Sure."

The older woman smiled, briefly placing her hand on top of Nick's before getting up and leaving the room. When she was gone, Nick exhaled heavily and kept his gaze on Greg's face.

"You can't leave me, buddy. We just got you back home. Don't let this venom take a hold of you; you gotta fight it. And if you don't I'm gonna kill you. I don't think I'd be able to live knowing that this was my fault and second guessing myself. Like what if I offered myself up? Or what if I never took you out that night? God kid, you're gonna make me grow older a lot faster than I should be." Nick chuckled. "But I guess that's what little brothers do." He wanted a response; a groan, a finger twitch, anything, but he knew that'd it be a long shot. Greg was far away from them right now; in a safe place. Exhausted, Nick lay his head down next to Greg's arm and closed his eyes; sleeping would make the four hours go by a lot faster and he just hoped that when he woke up, Greg would be awake too.

~+CSI+~

"Well, we've passed the four hour mark and we've taken some blood tests. It seems that Greg is no longer at risk. His blood stream is clean and he should be good as new in a couple days."

"What about the tube?" Nick asked.

"We'll be able to remove that right now, actually; it seems that he's starting to breathe on his own, which is good. I'm telling you, this is a miracle. Greg is a hell of a fighter."

Nick smiled, glancing at the team. "Yeah...he is."

"If you'll just wait out here, we'll be done in a moment."

Within minutes, the doctor came back out with a grin. "The tube is out and he's gonna be okay; you all can go sit with him if you'd like."

Nick wasted no time and went back into the room, while the rest of the team gave him some space, sitting back in his vacated chair. "I knew you could fight this buddy; I knew you wouldn't give up." Taking Greg's hand, he gave it a slight squeeze. "Now you just need to wake up, okay man?"

Silence. Nick sighed in disappointment but he wasn't surprised. It might be awhile before the kid woke up. So to pass the time, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a light snooze. It seemed like only seconds, but Nick was jerked back to consciousness when he felt a slight twitch in his palm. Scrubbing his face quickly, Nick sat up, his heart jumping into his throat.

"Greg?"

A weak groan and Nick smiled widely. "Greggo, can you hear me? Come on bud, open those eyes for me."

And the moment that'd he'd been waiting for, for hours. Greg's eyelids flickered open slowly, his eyes a bit unfocused but Nick didn't care. They were open. At first, Greg looked up at the ceiling for a couple minutes and Nick decided to give the kid time to adjust to his surrounding. Finally, Greg rolled his head to face Nick and the Texan couldn't be more happier.

"Hey G."

"N-Ni-" Before he could finish, Greg began coughing violently and Nick jumped up, pouring him a cup of water. "Here, drink slowly."

Weakly, Greg took a couple sips with Nick's help before pushing it away. After calming his breathing down, Greg looked up at the Texan. "Ni-Nick?"

"Right here, man."

"R-Real?"

Nick pursed his lips sadly and he grabbed Greg's fingers. "Yes. I'm real; we got you back and you're at the hospital."

The corner of Greg's mouth twitched upwards. "Thank god."

There was a moment of silence until Nick felt he had to break it.

"How're you feeling man?"

Greg shrugged tiredly. "S-Sore. Throat h-hurts."

"Hmm, I bet."

"Arm r-really hurts, too."

"Yeah you, um, you were stung by a scorpion. Do you remember that?"

"Not really...actually I don't 'member much at all."

"Well, what _do _you remember?"

"Uh..." Greg scrunched his face a bit. "We...you and me were...at a bar?"

"Yeah; you had a pretty bad day at work."

Greg snorted. "I bet this m-makes my bad day at work seem like a p-party."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, you could say that...I'm glad you're okay man. We...we almost lost you."

Greg chuckled tiredly. " You g-guys can't get rid of me that easily...oh and Nick?"  
"Yeah kid?"

"It's not your fault."

"You...you heard that?"

"Heard what? It's just that look you have on your face. You feel guilty and I'm guessing it's about this. I don't blame you, okay?"

"Greg-"

"Okay?"

"Yeah...okay man."

Greg smirked as he settled into the pillows, closing his eyes. And just when Nick thought the kid had fallen asleep, the blonde spoke again. "Oh, but I did hear something about me making you grow older faster. Which means all the ladies will be going for me and you'll be left in the dust."

Nick scoffed. "We'll see about that buddy. Some of the cougars like a little gray in a man's hair."

Greg smiled. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that...old man."

Nick rolled his eyes, sitting back in the chair. He shook his head; the old Greg was back and here to stay.

**FIN**

**So much Greg love!**

**Next story is for: ng99fan**


	16. The Worse News You Could Possibly Get

**The Worst News You Could Possibly Get**

**Another Story! I'm having so much fun writing these and I hope you are having fun reading them! **_**Chapter Info: For ng99fan: How about G**__**reg get really sick not just a cold or flu something serious. **_**Enjoy! Warning: I know cancer is a touchy subject, so I hope no one gets offended.**

It's been exactly a year and a half since he last felt this shitty; Greg rarely ever got sick and on the times that he did, they were really, _really_ bad. But for some reason, this felt different. Greg rolled onto his side in his bed with a groan; he's also never felt this tired before. Sure, he's pulled plenty of all nighters but he made sure he had his Blue Hawaiian coffee by his side. However, last night, it didn't seem help; it didn't seem to matter that he had ten cups, with extra, extra sugar. He had fallen asleep on the couch for god sake! He _never_ did that; he loved his job way to much. He thought back to earlier when it took _both_ Nick and Russell to wake him up.

_*Flashback*_

_ It had been a long day and the case was going by extremely slow. He didn't know why he was so tired, but he couldn't even keep his eyes open when he was standing. Greg trudged his way to the break room and collapsed on the couch...god it was so fucking comfortable. Before he knew it, he was out like a light._

_ Nick was walking the halls, shifting through the files of evidence, trying to figure out how to crack the case. It was a bad one and he wished that it would be over already...maybe some coffee would jog his brain. He strolled into the break room, tossed the papers onto the table and went to the coffee maker. It was then that he heard the soft snores coming from the couch. When he saw his little brother sprawled out and asleep, he smirked. And as much as he wanted to let the hard-working man rest, Russell and Catherine wouldn't stand for it when they were so busy with this murder. Forgetting the drink, he went over and shook the kid's shoulder._

_ "Greg. Greggo, wake up."_

_ Nothing._

_ "Come on, buddy or Russell's gonna be pissed."_

_ Still nothing and it was starting to worry the Texan. Greg was out cold...and he felt strangely warm. When Nick put a hand on the kid's forehead, he made a face of disapproval. Greg seemed to have a slight fever. "Greg...Greg come on, kid, wake up!" But the young CSI remained limp. "Dammit." A fever and Greg possibly being unconscious for some reason were not good together. And now that he looked closer, there were dark circles under the man's eyes and wondered if he wasn't sleeping._

_ He ran out of the room and went to Russell's office. The man was talking on the phone with his wife, but he needed help now. _

_ "Russell."_

_ The man swiveled his chair around and the instant the older man saw panic on Nick's face._

_ "Honey, I gotta go. I'll call you back." He hung up and stood from his chair. "Nick, what's wrong?"_

_ "It's Greg."_

_ Frowning, but asking no other questions, Russell followed the man back to the break room. Greg was still asleep but a pained grimace was present on his pale face._

_ "Greg...Greg?" Russell said softly._

_ This time, the kid groaned weakly, but didn't move._

_ "Greg!"_

_ Almost instantly, Greg's eyes opened at the familiar shout from his boss. He shot up from the couch, dazed and confused, blinking a couple times to focus his vision. Nick placed a hand on Greg's shoulder._

_ "You okay, man?"_

_ Greg's forehead creased. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. What's going on? Did something happen?"_

_ "Nick had been trying to get you up, but you wouldn't budge. He had to get me. Are you sure you're alright? Have you been sleeping okay?"_

_ Greg was embarrassed though he tried not to show it. "Umm, yeah." He pushed himself from the couch, rubbing the sleep out of his face. "Yeah, let's go crack the case."_

_*End Flashback*_

A day or two went by and it was now late at night. Greg was still feeling sick, but he didn't want to get his team worried when he declined their offer to go get dinner. Besides, he hadn't eaten much all day anyways. However, he wasn't feeling up to downing any food at the moment. He had only taken one bite of his burger before feeling extremely full and nauseous. Making a slight disgusted face, he weakly pushed the plate away and the first person who noticed it was Nick...of course.

"Aren't you hungry, G?" Nick asked, seeing Greg barely touched his food..

Russell, Catherine, Sara, and Morgan looked at the young CSI, picking up on the Texan's worried tone.

"Yeah, you usually finish before me," Morgan smiled.

Greg returned the gesture weakly, placing a hand on his stomach. He felt so nauseous and he didn't even know why. He hasn't eaten much for the past four days and the things he did eat, he just threw up. Something was seriously wrong; he _knew_ it wasn't a stomach bug or the flu. He didn't have a fever, he just felt really sick. Maybe it was time to call his doctor to see if the results have come in.

"Greg, Hun?" Catherine frowned. "Are you okay?"

He snapped out of his reverie and gave everyone a small smile for good measure. "Y-yeah, I'm good. Just full."

"You hardly ate a bite, though," Nick frowned. He wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, but Greg looked a lot skinner than he did a week ago and he was starting to get suspicious...and worried. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Greg nodded, not wanting to open his mouth in case the small portion of burger he swallowed wanted to make a second appearance.

Nick was skeptical, as was everyone else at the table, but decided to leave it be for the moment. As Greg watched his team eat, he began to feel acid and bile make it's way up his throat. The pain in his stomach started to grow and he could no longer just sit there.

"I'll be right back." He slid out of the table and made his way towards the bathroom, slowly so he wouldn't raise suspicion. Once he reached a stall and locked it with shaky hands, Greg wiped his sweaty forehead and collapsed over the toilet, heaving his guts out. It hurt so bad; he just wanted it all to stop. Warm, salty tears trickled down his cheek, his body trembled violently and his hands were grasping the toilet tightly.

"Oh god." He choked when he saw blood in the vomit. This was beyond bad now. He just wished he knew what was going on. After three minutes, he finally caught a break and Greg leaned against the wall, out of breath. He didn't want to cry; if anyone saw the way he looked when he left the bathroom, they'd ask so many questions, most of which he couldn't answer.

"Greggo? Are you still in here?"

_Crap._ Quickly, he flushed the toilet, wiping the tears and leftover bile from his face. He opened the door and kept his head down as he went over to the sink.

"Hey, you don't look so good, man. Are you sick?"

"N-No," Greg said, trying as hard as he could to keep the shakiness out of his voice. "Seriously, Nick, I'm okay."

"No you're not." Nick said, feeling a little hurt that his little brother was keeping something from him.

Greg dried his hands and then started for the door. Unfortunately, Nick blocked him, determined to get answers. "Greg, I thought we told each other everything. Come on, just tell me. What's going on?"  
Greg looked up at the Texan with red-rimmed eyes and was about to say something when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Quickly, to get out of talking to Nick, he dug it out and pushed past the taller man, putting the device to his ear. He ignored the confused looks of his teammates as he passed their table and went outside into the cool night.

"H-Hello?"

_"Mr. Sanders? This is Dr. Smith, I'm a __gastroenterologist. I understand your personal doctor Dr. Johnson had taken some tests after you told him some of your symptoms and he gave me the results. His suspicions were correct."_

Greg's heart beat painfully against his chest, his breaths coming out short and shallow. "What do you mean, suspicions? What do...what do they say? What's wrong with me?"

_"Mr. Sanders, I'm afraid to tell you, but you have stomach cancer."_

His heart stopped, his fingers becoming numb. This was the worst news anyone could possibly get. He had cancer; he had fucking cancer.

~+CSI+~

Greg sat on the edge of his bed, hands clasped tightly in front of him while his entire body was trembling with sobs. After he got the news, he put on a mask of happiness and went back into the diner, tossing a few bills on the table for his burger, mumbling an apology for leaving so abruptly and booking it as fast as he could. He couldn't let them see him cry; he was afraid of what they'd think. He didn't know how this happened; _why_ it happened. Why did it have to be him? The young CSI put his face in his hands, wiping the wetness from his cheeks and sniffing; he had to go in and see Dr. Smith tomorrow afternoon, but he didn't know if he had the courage to do so. And he couldn't ask the guys for help, because he _really_ didn't want to drag them into his problems. He had to deal with this on his own. He glanced up as his phone rang for the hundredth time. It had been Nick seventy-five percent of the time, and the rest Sara, Morgan and Catherine. But he never answered a single one of them. He wasn't ready to talk right now to anyone.

Taking a deep breath, pain shot through his stomach...his stomach that held a cancerous tumor. Just the thought of it just made him cry harder. And how was his supposed to go into work after his performance today? Nick would never quit with the questions and the worrying until he got a straight answer. Whimpering, he laid down on his bed, curling into a fetal position and cried himself to sheer exhaustion until he had no more tears left. Within minutes, his eyes closed and he fell into a restless, nightmare plagued sleep.

The next time he opened his eyes, it seemed like he'd only been asleep for ten minutes; but none of that mattered now. His stomach felt like it was being sliced up by razors. It was literally killing him from the inside and before he realized it, he was in his bathroom, hunched over the toilet, puking up nothing but watery bile and blood. He just wanted to die; anything to get out of this horrible pain. Dying would fix all his problems. After twenty minutes, Greg finally finished with a violent bout of coughing and spitting. He was literally drained of all his energy; he felt a cold sweat coming on and his body began shivering immensely. Stomach acid burned his throat and to make matters worse, his chest was tight, making it difficult to breathe. Struggling to inhale, he found that he could no longer keep his eyes open or keep his head up straight. Before he could even crawl to his bed, Greg slumped onto the floor, passing out without a second thought.

~+CSI+~

**Five Hours Later**

Nick paced the break room worriedly as he repeatedly called Greg. He figured when he called Greg after the unexpected departure from the diner, that the man was sleeping, but now...Greg was _never_ late for work. Or at least _two hours_ late. Something was seriously wrong; and it wasn't just now. For the past couple of days, Greg had been acting strange and it was kinda scaring him. What was so bad that the kid wouldn't come to him about it? He redialed the CSI's number again and vowing that if Greg didn't pick up this time he was going over.

"Come on G, answer the goddamn phone already."

Greg sluggishly blinked his feverish eyes open, his head pounding with a killer headache.

_Ring!_

_What the hell was that noise?_ He groaned hoarsely and peeled his sweaty face from the tiled floor, licking his dry lips and blearily looking at his surroundings. For a moment, he was confused as to why he was sleeping in the bathroom. But then it all came back to him; the pain, the puking, the doctors, the cancer. He prayed that it had just been a nightmare...but it wasn't; it was all real.

_Ring!_

There it was again. He shook his head to clear the fog and realized that it was his phone. Glancing down at his watch- that was nearly hanging off his boney wrist- Greg cursed, staggering to his feet and shakily walking to where his phone lay on his bed. Squinting at the display, he saw that it was Nick. He was over two hours late and he was glad it wasn't Russell who was the one getting ready to kick his ass.

"H-Hello?  
Nick felt relief wash over him; even though the kid sounded a bit groggy, he figured Greg had just overslept. That's all it was right? _"Greg! Where the hell are you man?"_

Greg wiped his face, but started rushing around the room, looking for a change of clothes. "Sorry, I...I guess I overslept. Russell mad?"

_"No, you're lucky; he went straight to a crime scene and didn't notice you weren't here. But he's gonna be back soon, so you need to come in, _now_."_

"O-Okay, I'm on my way." With that, Greg hung up, pulled on some socks and shoes, cleaned himself a little, before rushing outside and driving away in his car. He knew that driving in the condition he was in right now wasn't the best idea, but he needed to get to work, because being fired was not something he needed to add to his list of miseries. Unfortunately, it took him twenty minutes longer to get to work because he kept feeling nauseous and had to pull over twice to puke up the granola bar he forced down while driving like a maniac. So much for eating; he should probably should just give up doing that forever until this was over...if it was over. Maybe he should just let himself die so he wouldn't have to endure this suffering any longer. Maybe he should just-

"Greg! God, you look horrible." The younger man snapped out of his thoughts and found Morgan standing in front of him, her beautiful blue eyes swimming with concern. How he got into the break room- or to the lab for that matter- he did not know; it actually scared him. Was he starting to black out or was he losing his memory?

"Hey...are you alright?"

Greg smiled weakly. "Y-yeah, I'm good."

"That's bullshit; you look like death warmed over." Leave it to Morgan to call his bluff and say it like it is. "Come sit."

He found himself being led to couch and lowered down. "What's going on with you?"

"It's nothing, Morgan," he said clearing his throat, scrubbing his face. "I probably just have a stomach bug." Or stomach _cancer_.

"Then maybe you should go home and rest, call out sick."

Greg shook his head. "No, it'll pass; I'm not missing work for something so small."

And before Morgan could say anything, there was a knock on the door frame. They both looked up and saw Nick smirking at them.

"Am I interrupting anything here?"

Morgan noticed that her hand was on Greg's and she quickly retracted it, a blush creeping on her cheeks. "No...umm, what do you need?"

"I was just coming to get Greg; Catherine called and said there are five 419's on 673 West Avenue, It's a grisly scene. You up for it, bud?"

Greg gave Morgan a look saying 'sorry I can't tell you' and nodded to Nick, pushing himself up. Nick's forehead creased, wondering what was silently being said between the two youngest CSI's.

"You go ahead and wait in the Denali, G, I have to grab something real quick."

"Sure." With that, Greg brushed past the Texan and left for the car. When he was gone, Nick faced Morgan once more.

"Is there something I should know?"

The blonde bit her lip. She knew that whatever was wrong with her friend, it definitely wasn't the stomach bug. And Morgan also knew she wasn't the only one that noticed Greg's weight loss. And if Nick had to ask, he obviously didn't know what was going on either. "I'm not sure."

The Texan pursed his lips before leaving the room, something was up with his little brother and he was gonna find out no matter what. When he got into the car, he found Greg resting his forehead on the window, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged.

"Hey," he placed a hand on the man's shoulder and was surprised when Greg flinched. "Whoa, buddy, it's just me."

"Oh...when did you get in here?"

"Just now. You know what? Maybe you should just call out sick. You don't look so hot."

"No!"

Nick frowned at Greg's frantic tone.

Greg's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. "I mean, I'm fine Nick. Just tired. Can we go now, please?"

Nick raised his eyebrows but sighed, starting the car. "Alright."

But the moment Greg stepped onto the scene, he felt extremely sick. There was blood _everywhere_ and the corpses have seemed to have been inside the house for quite awhile. The smell of rotting flesh entered his nose and he tried hard to keep down whatever leftover contents he had in his stomach. Normally, this stuff wouldn't bother him, but today...it was bothering him like hell. He glanced at Nick who was talking to Brass and took a deep breath. He wasn't gonna puke and he wasn't gonna pass out. That wouldn't look good with his "stomach bug" or "just tired" excuse. He began snapping pictures of everything in the living room where both Mr. and Mrs. Lavaliere were sprawled on the floor, necks slit and guts ripped open. Whoever did this was one sick son of a bitch. When he reached the kitchen, it was the last straw; there was a three year old girl and a seven year old boy gutted and stabbed too many times to count. Their heads were nearly decapitated and Greg could barely keep himself up straight; he felt extremely nauseous and not to mention really dizzy...probably because he hasn't been able to keep even _water_ down for the past couple of days. Greg's fingers went numb and he heard the camera fall onto the counter; swallowing thickly, his legs went weak and he felt himself fall to the floor. He didn't even hear his name being called until someone was kneeling in his vision and tapping his cheek.

"Greg! Greggo, you alright man? Come on, say something." _Nick._

"Here's some water." _Another voice...sounded like Brass._

"Greg, sweetheart?" _Someone...a girl...maybe Catherine. She was stroking his head._

Blinking furiously, his tunnel vision went away and he found the three people he heard standing around him with worried faces. And he was on the floor...how did he get on the floor?

"Greggo, talk to me, buddy."

"H-Huh? W-Wha'...Nick?"

"You with us, kiddo?"

"Umm..."

"Here, have some water."

Greg shook his head, trying to push the water bottle away. If he threw up now after passing out, he was screwed.

"Greg, you need it."

"No, I'm f-fine."

"The hell you are, Greg," Catherine said. "Now drink the water."

Unable to argue, especially with Catherine, he let Nick help him sip the water until he couldn't hold anymore. "E-Enough."

After he caught his breath, he sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Now hopefully he wouldn't upchuck again; he didn't want to, he didn't think he had the energy for it.

"Greg, man, you okay? You passed out on us for a second."

He glanced at the Texan, then at Brass, and then Catherine. He didn't want to tell them, he couldn't. He didn't want to be treated differently, because he knew that's just what they'd do.

"Uh...yeah...just lightheaded. This scene...it's just a lot to take in." He lied.

Nick pursed his lips sadly while Catherine ran her fingers through Greg's blonde curls.

"Do you need to take a break?" Catherine asked. Her motherly instinct was telling her it was something more than the scene, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Yeah...um, can I just go back to the lab?"

"Of course, Hun. I can finish up here, we're pretty much done. Nicky can take you."

Greg nodded and carefully, Nick and Catherine pulled Greg to his feet and helped walk him to the car. By the time Greg was in the seat, he felt more drained than he'd ever been all week. Without another thought, Greg rested his head against the window and fell asleep.

Nick watched as his little brother slumped in the seat. He had been really scared earlier when he saw Greg on the ground. He was in the living room, after talking to Brass, taking blood swabs when he heard something clatter loudly and then a thump on the ground. Immediately, he got up and when he reached the kitchen, his heart nearly stopped. Greg was as white as a sheet and unconscious on the floor. It had only been for a minute or so, but still, it scared him shitless.

"What's wrong with him, Nicky? I haven't seen him like this for at least a year and it's worse," Catherine said in a worried tone, looking at her youngest CSI. She remembered the last time Greg was nearly this bad and the kid was forced to stay home for nearly two weeks.

"I don't know, he won't tell me anything. He's really sick, I know it. I just...I just wish he would talk."

Catherine smiled sadly, placing a gentle hand on the Texan's bicep. "He will; take care of him, Nicky."

He smirked, getting into the car. "You know I always do."

Catherine smiled and watched as her boys drove away. God, she hope her Greggo was okay.

~+CSI+~

"Greg, why don't you just take it easy," Nick said as they walked into the lab. He had an easier time waking the kid up but he seemed a bit grumpy.

"Nick for the last time, I'm fine. Stop worrying about me." They got into the break room and Greg poured himself some coffee. He didn't know why he felt so irritated...he just did. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was almost time to go see Dr. Smith. Now if he could only get past Nick.

"No, Greg, I'm not gonna stop worrying until you tell me what the hell is going on with you! Morgan's worried, Catherine's worried, hell even _Brass_ is worried. I thought we were friends, I thought we were _brothers_!? I thought we told each other everything!?"

And that's when Greg snapped and whipped around to face the Texan. "You know, I thought that too, Nick, but it seems that I was wrong!"

Nick frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"We _never_ hang out anymore, we never talk unless it's about work, so what's up with that, huh? Does that sound like brothers to you? When I wanted to talk about Warrick, you pushed me away. And yeah, I get that it might've been too soon, so then I waited...for two years, I waited and when I brought it up, you _still_ brushed it off and ignored me. Does that sound like 'telling each other everything?' I think not."

"Greg-"

The younger man huffed, trying to work past the pain that was starting up in his stomach again, while slamming his cup down angrily. "I can't be here right now; I'm leaving." He pushed past the Texan and quickly left for his car. The anger was still simmering beneath the surface and he didn't want to talk to anyone right now...not even the doctor, but that wasn't a choice. He revved up his car and didn't stay to see Nick run out of the building after him, though he was too late. Greg was already gone.

Once the young CSI got to the hospital, almost all of his rage seemed to dissipate and he felt really bad for yelling at Nick. But it got him here without questions, so he could just apologize later. Sighing nervously, he walked inside and up to the nurse's station.

"Can I help you, sir?" The brunette woman said cheerily.

"Yeah, umm, my name is Greg Sanders. I have an appointment with Dr. Smith at noon."

The nurse looked down at her computer, fingers flying across the keyboard and then smiled. "Follow me, Mr. Sanders."

The two walked down the hall and finally reached a small office. The nurse knocked on the door before opening it. "Dr. Smith, Greg Sanders is here."

"Ah, Greg, send him in."

The nurse removed her head from the doorway and patting Greg on the arm before disappearing back down the hall and around the corner. Hesitant, Greg stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat across from the doctor.

"So, Greg, how have you been doing since the news yesterday?"

"Not so good...it's a shock. I just...I never thought that this would be happening to me."

"I understand completely; it's not easy getting this type of information." Dr. Smith leaned forward, looking at Greg's file. "Fortunately, we caught the cancer early, so there is a high percentage that we can remove it before it spreads. Right now, it looks like it's only a Stage I stomach cancer where the tumor is limited to the layers of tissue inside the stomach linings. I will give you some options on how to proceed, but first off, are there any more symptoms I should know about?"

Greg looked down at his hands; they were shaking violently and he put them under his thighs to hide them. "Well, I have been throwing up a lot...I can barely hold down water and I...um, I nearly passed out today at a crime scene."

"Hmm, it seems that you are dehydrated. I'll prescribe you some anti-nausea pills and see if that works. In the meantime, you have a few options on how the cancer can be removed. Either by surgery, radiation therapy or chemotherapy, all of which have risks. I'll give you a few days to think about it, but we have to move fast before it starts to spread."

Greg nodded warily. God, this was all so much to take in.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sanders, we're gonna get you through this. NY Presbyterian has the best cancer treatment there is."

"Thanks, doctor," Greg smiled weakly, shaking the man's hand.

"Now, go home, get some rest. And if you need anything, just call. On second thought, would you rather be admitted here? You'd be taken good care of."

Greg thought about it; it'd probably be better if he stayed at the hospital but for one, he hated them and being there right now was bad enough. And two, it would raise too much suspicion; he was not going to miss work and have people find out. "No...but I'll call you with my decision in a day or two."

"Alright, Mr. Sanders. See you soon."

With that Greg left the office and the hospital. The whole drive home, he was basically on autopilot and locked in his thoughts. This was really real; he really had cancer and he was going to have to do something drastic to get it out. He hadn't told anybody- not even his parents- about this, because he was scared of how people might act and what they might do. He had to admit that he was scared- no scratch that- he was terrified. So many 'what ifs' ran through his head. What if it spread, what if he died, what if none of the treatment worked? Tears trailed down his cheeks and when he reached his apartment, he rested his head on the steering wheel and cried for ten minutes straight. This was a complete nightmare and he knew it was never going to end. After a while, Greg lifted his head and wiped his eyes, shivering intensely. He was cold and wanted to go to his nice warm bed to sleep forever. But he knew that would never happen, because his abdominal pain would make sure he wouldn't sleep again. However, there was still one thing he had to do; sniffing, he took out his phone, turned it on and dialed the familiar number with shaky fingers.

_"Greg! Finally, I've been trying to call you for hours."_

"Oh...sorry, I shut my phone off. Look...I just wanted to apologize for earlier; you've done nothing but try to help and I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I'm just really stressed out right now."

_"Greg, it's my fault not yours, okay? Now, come on man, please tell me what's going on with you? Why are you stressed?"_

Greg hesitated, contemplating on whether to tell the Texan his secret. After a few moments, he sighed, still not ready to let anyone know. "I'm sorry, Nick. I just...I just can't tell you right now." And before Nick could respond, he hung up, biting his lip and resting his back on the headrest. He wanted to tell the man everything...but he just couldn't do it. Not right now. The rest of the day, Greg just sprawled on his couch, watching T.V and trying to make a decision, though he didn't really want to think about the cancer right now. A couple times, he threw up after he _attempted_ to have some soup; it was really pointless to eat anymore. Sighing sadly, he dry swallowed the anti-nausea pills and laid down, hoping to get more than two hours of sleep. And he ended up getting three before feeling the need to heave his guts again. He cried as he did; this was so much worse than dying. After passing out, for what seemed like the hundredth time, on the bathroom floor, Greg awoke to see that he was once again, late for work. He knew that if he kept this up, there wouldn't be a work to go to...and then there definitely wouldn't be a reason for him to live.

~+CSI+~

For the next four days, it was like this. Russell heard about Greg's incident and decided it'd be best the kid just work from the lab. Though Greg didn't really like this decision, he also knew it was for the better...not so much for his health, but for the crime scenes. He cared way more about the crime scenes. If he threw up or passed out around evidence, then he was screwed. However, being at the lab meant having everyone around him...and that meant questions. He steered clear of the team, even the girls, because he couldn't stand them staring at him with worry and their interrogations to get him to confess what was wrong with him. Every morning he'd wake up from a two or three hour sleep and dry heave because he barely drank water or ate anything. He had called Dr. Smith and decided he wanted the surgery; his appointment was scheduled for Sunday morning...two days from now. Greg looked in the mirror at his gaunt appearance; dark circles underlined his sunken brown eyes, when he lifted up his shirt, his ribs were seen poking through his skin and he could see his whole body trembling. He was too skinny to be healthy...but he wasn't healthy, he had stomach cancer. The sickness rolled in his stomach and he fell over the toilet, spitting and heaving. This was over the top; his head was pounding and he could barely see straight. When he tried to stand back up, Greg stumbled sideways and smacked his head on the sink. He was out before he hit the ground or to feel the blood flowing from his temple.

At the same time, Nick was looking at the wall clock in the break room and nervously tapping his foot. Greg was late..._really_ late this time and his gut was telling him something was extremely wrong this time. He, Greg and Sara were assigned to a robbery and the kid had failed to show up no matter how many times Nick called.

"Should we just go and pick him up? Maybe he slept in again," Sara suggested.

The Texan bit his lip. "Yeah...maybe. Let's go."

When they pulled up to Greg's apartment, they saw that the small car was still in the parking lot. The worry was growing in Nick's gut and exploded when they knocked on the young CSI's door for three minutes.

"That's it. Greg, we're coming in!" Without hesitation, Nick kicked the door open and shouted his friend's name. He went one way while Sara went the other...and as soon as she heard her frantic yell of Greg's name and then for Nick to call an ambulance, his heart plummeted to the ground as dialed and ran to Sara's aid. What he saw made him sick. Greg was lying motionless on the floor, white as a sheet and barely breathing. It would've looked like the kid was merely sleeping except for the large pool of blood beneath his head.

"Oh god, Greggo." He knelt down next to Greg and picked the man up into his lap.

"Did you call the ambulance?" Sara asked, on the verge of tears.

"Yeah," Nick whispered and gently shook the man in his arms. "Greggo? Greg, wake up...please." But the kid was too far away in unconsciousness to hear him. The Texan grabbed a towel from the rack and pressed it against the bleeding wound. "You're gonna be okay, man, just hang on. Please don't give up. Whatever's wrong with you, we'll be by your side the whole way. Just hang on, G." How the hell had it come to this?

~+CSI+~

His head hurt like a bitch as he slowly climbed his way to consciousness. His head felt tight and there was a dull pain in his stomach. He had no idea what happened and it was scaring him; the last thing he remembered was leaving work after Russell sent them all home. He groaned weakly and suddenly felt a hand on his forehead.

"Greg?" _Sounded like...Sara. What was she doing in his apartment? _

"Greggo, come on time to wake up now." _Nick too? Did he have a party or something?_

He decided to open is eyes to see what the hell was going on. When his eyelids parted, a bright light intruded his senses and the tight sensation he felt was a bandage wrapped around his head. Squinting, he looked around and saw he wasn't in his house...he was at the hospital. _Crap._

"Greg, can you hear me buddy?"  
"N-Nick?" He said hoarsely.

"Oh, thank god. I'll go get the doctor, Sara'll stay with you. I'm glad you're okay, G."

Greg knit his brows in confusion. Had they found out about the cancer? He prayed on his life that they hadn't.

"Wh-What happened?"

"You fell and hit your head on the sink in your bathroom. When me and Nick came to get you for the crime scene, you were on the floor...bleeding. You scared the hell out of us, Greg."

"S-Sorry...didn't mean to."

"It's okay," Sara smiled. "Just don't let it happen again. You're lucky you didn't go into a coma."

"How long was I out?"

"About twelve hours; it's Saturday. You've got a nasty cut above your temple along with severe dehydration and malnutrition. What's going on with you? And don't say you're fine, because clearly you're not."

Greg opened his mouth, but then Nick came back with Dr. Smith and the man asked the two CSI's to leave for a moment while he talked with his patient. Reluctantly, they left, deciding to go get a coffee, but promised Greg they'd be back as soon as the doctor was finished. Once the door closed, Dr. Smith gave Greg a sympathetic smile.

"How are you holding up, Greg?"

The young CSI shrugged, looking down at his hands.

"Do your friends and family know about the cancer?"

"No," he mumbled. "I haven't told them yet...I can't."

"I know this is still hard to cope with, but the best way to get through this ordeal is to have a support system and that's those people out there."

Swallowing his panic, Greg nodded. He knew he was gonna have to tell the team at some point...but when?

"On another note, however, your surgery is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. We're gonna keep you on the I.V until tomorrow due to the malnutrition and dehydration Another doctor who specializes in cancer will come and talk to you later as well as tomorrow. Now, I'm gonna go get some papers for you to sign, so just hang tight, okay?"

Greg forced a smile and nodded. Getting thrown all this information was too much. He couldn't be here right now...he needed to clear his head. Once the doctor left, threw the covers back and swung his legs off the bed. All this weight on his shoulders about the cancer and the surgery and telling his friends the bad news...it was literally suffocating him. Holding back the tears, Greg pushed himself off the bed and walked out into the hallway, searching for the nearest exit. At the same time Greg disappeared around the corner, Nick and Sara were returning from their coffee break.

"Do you think Greg will be okay?" The brunette said sadly. Greg was her best friend and it killed her to see him so small and sick.

"I hope so; he's a strong kid, but something's telling me-" but Nick trailed off when the reached their friend's room...that was empty. The bed covers were flipped and Greg was nowhere to be seen. Both their hearts stopped and frantically searched the room. No Greg. As they went out into the hallway, Nick bumped into Greg's doctor.

"Where's Greg?" He breathed. "Please tell me you took him to get some tests."

But the doctor's face was equally confused and then worried. "No, I just went to go get some papers for him to sign. He's not in the room?"

"No, he's gone...dammit."

"I'll put out an alarm." Dr. Smith pulled out his pager and ten seconds later, the intercom went off stating they had a missing patient. Not long after, there were doctors and nurses bustling around, searching for Greg.

Nick ran his fingers through his hair; this couldn't be happening, this really couldn't be happening. They should've stayed right here and went in immediately after the doctor left. Now Greg was missing and they had no idea where to start looking.

~+CSI+~

Catherine rubbed her face tiredly. Their youngest was gone and they didn't have the slightest idea as to where he went. The hospital was still going crazy looking for the kid, Russell had called Brass to put out a BOLO just in case Greg had left the hospital. Out of all of them, Nick was the most frantic of all; Greg was his little brother. His little brother that was sick as hell and no one knew why. He could've fallen on the floor somewhere, bleeding or unable to breathe. Someone-even though at the moment it was highly unlikely- could've kidnapped him. He tried to remember times when Greg was upset or scared and where he would go to think. And just when he couldn't think of anything, a light bulb went off in his head. He knew where Greg was.

"I know where he went," he said to Sara and Catherine, feeling excited.

"What? Where," the blonde said, eyes wide.

"The roof. Get Russell and tell Brass to call off the BOLO. I'll go talk to Greg." With that, Nick found the closest exit door and bounded up the stairs, determined to bring his brother back down to safety...and not just from the roof.

"Greg!" He shouted as he burst through the door and into the hot Las Vegas air. He scanned the area, starting to get fearful that he was wrong and that Greg wasn't up there. "Greg!?" Just when he was about to give up, he saw a figure sitting on the far end of the building. His heart beat happily against his chest and started trotting towards the man.

"Greg? Greg, we've been looking for you everywhere! Why the hell did you run off like that?" But when he reached Greg, he could see that the kid was crying, his body trembling violently. "Greg? You okay, man?"

Greg barely moved his head to acknowledge Nick before wiping his face and looking out over the buildings.

"Ni-Nick...what are you doing up here?" Greg sniffed. "How'd you find me?"

"You're my little brother, I know you." He sat next to Greg, trying to get a read on the man's thoughts. "Greggo...I know you wanna tell me something, I can feel it. Just trust me man, that's all I need. Trust me; I won't tell anyone without your permission. How bad can it be?"

Greg remained silent for a few moments before speaking. "It's bad, Nick...really bad."

Nick placed a hand on Greg's, squeezing it gently since he was afraid he might break the frail bones. "Greg, _please. _I just want to be there for you and help you through whatever it is; but I can't do that unless you tell me."

Greg struggled to hold in the tears as he looked at Nick painfully. His stomach was acting up and he was actually looking forward to the surgery so he wouldn't have to endure the agony again.

"Seriously, G, the moment I knew something was wrong with you, I've wracked my brain for any and every possible disease there is. Even the really bad things like drug abuse or an eating disorder; something I would never believe you would do. I just need an answer, because I can't think of anything else."

"What about cancer?"

Nick stopped, completely speechless before chuckling nervously. "Greg, please, now's not the time for your crazy jokes. It's seriously not even funny."

The blonde stared straight at the Texan with sad but serious hazel eyes. The smile vanished from Nick's face. "Greg...you're not joking are you?"

The young CSI shook his head, tears falling down his face as he looked away. "I have cancer, Nick. Stomach cancer."

The Texan could barely breathe; _his_ little brother had a deadly disease that he's been dealing with by himself for the past two weeks. "Oh god, G. That's...that's not fair." He tried looking at Greg again but the kid was facing the other way.

"You can say that again," he whispered. "I didn't want to tell you guys because...I didn't want you to worry or drop everything just for _me._"

"Greg, we're _always_ gonna worry about you. You don't have to go through this by yourself."

All of a sudden, the dam exploded and Greg began crying in violent heaves. His heart utterly shattered with grief, Nick took the man in his arms, pulling him into a tight bear hug. He felt even worse when he could literally feel Greg's ribs and spine through the scrubs. He closed his eyes, tears of his own making an appearance while running his fingers through the kid's hair and whispered words of comfort.

"I-I'm gonna d-die aren't I N-Nick."

"Greg, don't you dare. Don't you dare say that. You are _not_ gonna die; not if I have anything to say about it. You are the strongest man I know and if anybody can get through this, it'll be you." He clung onto Greg tighter. " The Greg Sanders I know doesn't quit, he fights." He felt the kid nod against his chest, but continue to sob...and Nick continued to comfort. He would sit here as long as it took to make sure Greg was feeling better. For at least ten more minutes, they stayed there before Greg's crying finally ceased, but the young CSI didn't let go of his big brother. He made a mistake of not telling his best friend, because he knew Nick- and the rest of the team- would be there for him no matter what happened.

"You ready to go back down?"

Greg inhaled before pulling away, wiping his face with a tired smile. "Yeah."

"Alright, buddy." The Texan helped Greg up and back downstairs where the team was waiting, relieved that their friend was okay.

"Don't ever scare us like that again," Catherine smiled, bringing Greg into a gentle hug. "Are you okay?"

Greg sighed inwardly and looked at Nick who nodded in encouragement. "No...there's umm...there's something I have to tell you. And it's not gonna be easy."

After ten minutes, Greg was being pat on the back and hugged; the girls were on the verge of tears and even though Greg said the cancer was caught early, it was still a scary concept.

"You're not alone in this, sweetheart," Catherine said, wiping her eyes. "You're gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay."

Greg would've started crying but he was too exhausted and he had no more tears to shed.

"Lets go get you back in your room," Nick said as they all went back to Greg's hospital room. The minute Greg laid down, fatigue took over and he was fast asleep. He wasn't scared anymore...well, not as much as before; his friends always had his back and he let himself forget that. But never again would he let that happen.

~+CSI+~

"You ready, buddy?" Nick smirked.

"Not really," Greg replied solemnly. "But I guess I don't really have a choice do I?"

"Well, you do, but I'm guessing you want to get better."

Greg chuckled weakly. " You don't have to tell me twice." The CSI was laying in his hospital bed while the nurses were prepping him for surgery. Some of it had been a bit embarrassing so he only wanted Nick to be in there for the moment.

Nick smiled down at his little brother. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

The corner of Greg's mouth flicked upwards. "I'm gonna stay positive, Nick."

"You better, or when you get better I'm gonna kick your ass."

Greg laughed. The first genuine laugh he's let out in weeks. "Thanks Nick."

"Your welcome, Greggo."

"Alright, you're all set to go," nurse Debbie smiled. "You ready to go, Hun?"

"Yeah," the blonde nodded.

"Okay, while we're walking down the hall, you're going to be put under. You can have your friends by your side. The oncologist, Dr. McMahon, will be conducting your surgery and he is the best there is. I promise, you have nothing to worry about; when you wake up, you'll be a cancer-free man."

Greg smiled. "Sounds good to me."

Debbie smiled as she and some other nurses unlocked the wheels and pushed Greg out of the room, Nick close behind. Before Greg knew it, Morgan and Sara were by his side, each grasping his hand and trying to keep the tears at bay. Morgan bent down and planted a kiss on Greg's cheek while squeezing his hand tightly.

"It'll be okay, Morgan," Greg said, starting to get sleepy as the drugs coursed through his veins. He loved the woman and he would say it out loud if one) the team wasn't there and two) he wasn't so damn tired.

"I know, Greg. Just pull through...for me."

He felt gentle fingers massaging his head and he hummed in contentment, knowing it was Catherine. Always the mother.

"You're gonna be just fine, Greg," Russell said, coming up beside the woman. "You're gonna be fine."

"Mmhmm." His eyelids started to feel weighed down with each second. He saw a blurry shape at the end of his bed, bobbing up and down as they walked. As his vision went in and out of focus and saw that it was Nick, a small smile on his face. Greg returned it weakly and the last thing he heard was the Texan's voice.

"We'll be here when you wake up, kiddo. You're gonna be okay."

_I know Nick, I know._

~+CSI+~

_ "I'm so glad he's okay. The doctor had said it'd been close; apparently there was a complication and he almost bled out."_

_ "God, I hate when G gives us these freakin' scares. I'm gonna get a heart attack before I turn fifty."_

Greg was slowly making his way back from unconsciousness and as he did, he could hear voices talking above him. There was a warm weight on his hand and he tried to move his fingers to let the people know he was awake, but they wouldn't budge.

_"I think I'm already starting to sport some gray hairs."_

_ "Gray looks pretty good in blonde hair."_

_ "Don't push it, Nicky."_

_ "What? What did I say wrong?"_

_ "I think somewhere in your statement, you were indicating that she's old."_

_ "Russell, stay out of this; Cath, that's not what I meant,"_ the man with a Texan drawl chuckled. _"I was merely saying that even though you are getting gray hairs, doesn't mean you can't reel in the men."_

_ "So...what? You're calling me a cougar?"_

_ "No! I-"_

_ "Nick, I'd quit while you're ahead. You're digging yourself further into a hole."_

_"Alright, alright."_

The laughter died down and there was a moment of silence.

_"God, I wish he'd just wake up already,"_ the Texan breathed. _"It's been three days."_

Three days!? What the hell happened?

_"I know, Nicky. But the doctor said he'll be okay. He's probably just really exhausted and dehydrated. But I promise, he'll be waking up soon."_

_ "How can you be so sure?" A different voice said sadly. He recognized that voice...but he couldn't place his finger on it._

_ "Because Morgan, it's Greg. If you knew him back when he was younger this is what he does. He leaves us in the dark and then when you least expect it, he surprises you." _The hand, which was small and feminine like, squeezed his hand lightly.

_"Come on, Greg. It's Morgan; you need to wake up so we see that you're okay."_

And he tried; he tried so damn hard to open his eyes or move his fingers, but the darkness was closing in and he fell into oblivion once more.

The next time he woke up, his eyes finally decided to open and he was met with light, yet it was a bit dimmer. He focused all his energy on moving his fingers and his heart jumped when it worked.

He groaned hoarsely, rolling his head on the pillow to see if anyone was there. He saw familiar faces; faces of his team. Catherine and Sara were sharing a spare hospital bed, Nick was napping on the recliner in the far corner, Morgan was sleeping in a chair right next to him and Russell slept in a chair by the door. Blinking his eyes, he rolled his head back to Morgan and noticed her hand was right near his. Once again, he focused on his fingers.

Morgan moaned when she felt something tap her hand. _Just five more minutes; I'm so- wait._ Her eyes flew open and she saw that it was _Greg _tapping her hand. Her gaze trailed up to the man's face and was overjoyed when she met those wonderful brown eyes.

"Oh my god...Greg!"

Her reaction got an immediate response, causing everyone to jerk out of their sleep and face the CSI's bed.

"M-Morgan," Greg smiled.

The woman smiled back and she couldn't resist hugging the man. "I'm so glad you're okay," she said in his shoulder before pulling away. Nick came up and did the same, as did Catherine and Sara. Russell came up to the other side, patting Greg on the arm.

"Gave us quite a scare, kid."

"What," Greg cleared his throat. "What happened?"

"Doc said you nearly bled out during the surgery. It was a close one."

If something bad happened during the surgery did that mean...he was almost afraid to ask. "Did they...is the cancer gone?"

Russell smiled. "Yeah, Greg; they got it out. You're a free man."

The blonde breathed a sigh of relief, sagging into the pillows.

"So I'm gonna be okay?"

"They're gonna keep you here for at least a week until you're at a healthy weight and to make sure you're not at risk for infection, but yeah, kiddo, you're okay."

"Thank god."

Nick grinned. "See bud, told you everything was gonna be fine. I knew you wouldn't quit."

Greg smiled but the yawn cut him off.

"Get some sleep, Greggo," Nick said, ruffling his little brother's hair which earned him an evil eye. Nick knew Greg hated having his hair messed with, but he played it innocent. "What?"

"Try that again and see what happens," Greg threatened teasingly.

Nick put his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, I know not to get on your bad side then."

Greg laughed. He missed this; the playful banter between him Nick. He missed his team and he knew that in a couple of weeks, things would go back to normal or maybe be even better. And even though this had been a horrible ordeal for him, it brought them all closer together and he was glad for that.

**FIN!**

**Wow, that was a long one! Hope you liked it and if any information was wrong, I apologize.**

**Next up: Marymel**


	17. Alternative Target

Alternative Target

**Hello again! Hope you guys are still reading; college is fun, but it takes a lot of time away from my writing :( I wish there was a fanfiction writing class that was available! Anyways, here's the next story. Also, prompts will be closed on the 15th of September, so get them in while you can!**

_**Chapter Info: Marymel: **__**What if Greg was hurt going after McKeen in the season finale? **_

Greg sighed heavily as he walked from the lab and to his car; today had been a long and stressful night. There were crooked cops everywhere nowadays. The undercover ops head, Luke Kimball, turned out to be the one working for McKeen. He had found the ex- under-sheriff's bullet in their latest victim and to add to that, Nick had a picture of Kimball in the alley as well. The guy was caught red-handed...well, almost. Russell had told them _only_ to keep tabs on the man since the didn't know how deep Kimball was in for McKeen. And then even more of a twist to the whole case, it turns out Kimball had met the guy who was really calling the shots. Winnick; the man turned out to be McKeen's son...who was now dead because Ecklie shot him. Out of self-defense of course. After that, everything went to hell and Nick left them. How could the man do that to the team? To the investigation? Greg turned the corner, realizing he'd been driving for a long time and had finally reached his apartment. Unfortunately, there were no nearby parking spots so he had to go around again and find a further back one. Once he grabbed his things and locked the doors, Greg breathed in the cold air and started the long journey towards his place.

Thankfully, it was a nice night to walk, otherwise he would've been pissed to park nearly a block away from his apartment. It was actually peaceful; a good way to clear his head. Maybe later he'd call Nick and try to get the man to open up...he didn't know exactly why the Texan had "quit," but it saddened him that he did. They were brothers and they were never supposed to leave each other. After Warrick, he noticed- after Nick got out of his funk- that the man became a ton more protective over him. And Greg knew he meant well, but it started to get annoying. He was grown up now, more mature and when he asked Nick what the deal was, he confessed that the whole Warrick thing messed him up and that he didn't want to lose another brother- especially his little brother. After that, they never spoke of it again. Brothers were there for each other, therefore, he would call Nick right now and ask him to go out for drinks. Pulling out his phone and dialing the Texan's number, he rounded the corner into unexpected trouble.

"Hey Sanders!"

With a frown, the blonde looked up just in time to see a gun pointed at him. Before he could do anything, he heard a gunshot and immediate pain in his abdomen. His cell phone slipped from his fingers and he collapsed on the ground.

"Consider this a message to your CSI friends. Forget about this case against McKeen. See you in the next life, kid." With blurry vision, Greg watched the black figure run off. Coughing and pressing his hand on the wound, the young CSI paled when he felt something warm trickle down his chin. "Oh god." Everything hurt so fucking much; his body trembled violently and he could feel himself slipping away quickly. Scanning the area, he found his cellphone inches away from his blood covered fingers. _Nick._ He had pressed call already...he wondered if the man had even answered. Even if he didn't there would still be a voice mail. _Please, Nick...help me._ With the one last ounce of his energy, Greg grasped the device and spoke into it weakly.

"N-Nick...help." With that, his vision tunneled, his hand went limp and he knew no more. Even if Nick did get the call, Greg knew he'd be dead before anyone got there. _I'm sorry Nick._

Meanwhile, Nick rubbed his face tiredly, as he drove around, trying to blow off steam...he had been doing so for the past half hour and he was thinking over the recent events of the night. He had quit...quit the investigation...quit the team...left like Catherine had. And he wasn't sure if he regretted it or not; sure he would miss everybody, especially his little brother. Since Warrick had died, all he had was Greg. And _he_ was all Greg had. Now he felt kind of bad of leaving him...maybe he should call and apologize. All of a sudden, his phone rang and he glanced over to the blinking screen. The Texan picked it up with a grin.

"Right on time, Greggo." He pressed answer and put it up to his ear. "Hey man, I was just about to-" All of a sudden he heard a gunshot, a grunt and the phone crash to the ground. He was at the edge of his seat and his foot pressed harder on the gas. "Greg? Greg!"

_"Consider this a message to your CSI friends. Forget about this case against McKeen. See you in the next life, kid." _

"Greg!" He spun the wheel, turning back around and heading towards Greg's place. "Greg, buddy can you hear me?" There was silence, some choking and coughing and then the worst thing of all.

_"N-Nick...help."_ And then he heard nothing.

"Greg? Greg! Answer me dammit, don't do this!" _Please don't leave me, kiddo. _"I'm almost there, man, don't quit now." In five minutes, he was in the vicinity of Greg's apartment. It was dark and it seemed like the streetlights were already off. Nick drove near the sidewalk slowly, keeping a tight grip on his phone and breathing heavily. _Come on, come on, come on. Where are you, G?_

Suddenly, as he turned the corner, he saw a dim light coming from the ground...and then a body...an unmoving body. "No." He stopped the car in the middle of the road and jumped out frantically running towards the figure. And when he got there, his heart nearly stopped. Greg was lying sideways on the ground in a dark pool of blood and not moving.

"Oh god...oh no. Greg?" He fell to his knees and rolled the kid over on his back. Blood had soaked the entire front of his shirt. "No, no, no, no. Greggo?" He lifted the kid's head into his lap, running his fingers through the sweaty blonde curls, down his cheek and to his neck. There had to be a pulse; Greg had to be alive. He'd never forgive himself if he wasn't. He sat there for a moment, trying to hold in the tears. There was a pulse; it was extremely weak, but it was there. Problem was, Nick didn't know how long it would last. Quickly, he dialed for an ambulance and shouted into the receiver.

"This is CSI Stokes, we have an officer down on Tenth and Barnes Street! Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Send an ambulance now!" He adjusted Greg's limp body into his arms, cradling him gently while pressing his hand on the still bleeding wound.

"Greg, buddy? Can you hear me? Please...open your eyes...please."

"N-N'gh?"

Nick gasped. "Greggo? Come on, bud, open those eyes."

"C-Can't...tired...h-hurts."

"I know it does, but help's on the way, you can sleep then, alright?"

"N-No, sl-sleep n'w." He weakly raised his blood caked hand and Nick grasped it tightly.

"G, don't you dare; don't you fucking dare give up on me now."

"I'm s'r'y N..."

"Greg-" the Texan warned.

"N-No, s-s'r'y...made you q-quit."

Nick bit his lip, still trying not to cry. "You didn't make me quit, bud. I just got upset...in fact, I'm not gonna quit; but you have to hold on okay? That's the deal."

Finally, Greg blinked open his glassy brown eyes with a smile. "Y-you gonna st-stay?"

"Yeah buddy, the entire time," he smiled.

"Good." All of a sudden, the younger man's eyes closed slowly, he exhaled and his hand went limp just as Nick heard the sirens in the distance. His blood ran cold in fear, his grin disappearing; he shook Greg's limp body, trying to get him to wake up.

"Greg? Greg! Greg, please don't do this to me! Oh god." He laid the kid on the ground and put his ear to his chest. "Shit, shit, shit, man!" Greg's heart had stopped. Tears were flowing out onto his face and he felt extremely sick. "Greg..." he voice broke as he brought Greg's head up to his chest, crying into his blonde hair. "God, I'm so sorry this happened. Don't g-go man." And he was so busy cradling his little brother that he didn't even notice that the paramedics had shown up.

"Sir, you have to let him go."

"No...I c-can't leave him...I promised."

"Nicky." _Brass._ "Nick, you gotta let him go if you want them to help."

Reluctantly, he let Greg's body be pried from his arms and Brass pull him away while they started with the defibrillator. Nick watched with shaky hands as they tried again, and again and again. Just when he thought it was over, the medic shouted out.

"He's back. 180 over 60, put more pressure bandages on that wound and intubate him, he's still not breathing."

"Oh man, Greg." Nick wiped his face, unaware of the blood that still covered his palm. They rolled the young CSI onto the stretcher before rolling him into the ambulance. Without thinking, Nick bolted after them, inviting himself into the back of the vehicle.

"Sir-"

"Don't 'sir' me. I'm staying with him and that's final."

The paramedic raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything before shutting the back doors. Swallowing thickly, the Texan grasped Greg's cold and limp hand, enveloping it in his. Man, was Morgan not gonna like this. He knew-well basically everyone in the lab knew- that Greg had a crush on Morgan and it may be obvious to say that Morgan had the same feelings. He hated to bring it up, but maybe this would bring them together.

~+CSI+~

Russell was at home, rubbing his wife's feet when he got the call from Brass. The officer knew Nick was too preoccupied with Greg to let everyone know, so it was the least he could do.

"Hello?"

_"D.B, it's Brass, we got a problem."_

"Is it about McKeen?"

_"No...it's about Greg. He was shot ten minutes ago."_

"What?" He hopped off the couch, heart beating painfully against his chest. One of his own was shot...he couldn't believe it. "Is he okay? What happened?"

_"The medics had to shock his heart...it looks bad. And I still have yet to talk Nick."_

"Why Nick?"

_"He was there when we arrived. I'm assuming Greg called him, but I'm not entirely sure."_

"Is Nick okay?"

_"He's __badly shaken; he was in bad shape when I got here, wouldn't even let go of Greg's body when the medics came."_

"Son of a bitch," Russell muttered. "Where is he being taken; I'll be right over."

_"__Desert Springs__...do you want me to call the others?"_

"No...no, I got it. Thanks." With that, he hung up the phone, telling his wife it was an emergency and running out to the car. He was dreading calling the others, but it had to be done. He called Finn who immediately left the restaurant she was at to get to the hospital, then Sara...and now Morgan.

_"Russell, please don't tell me we have a case. Me and my dad-_

"Morgan, it's not a case. It's Greg."

The blonde stopped walking and looked at Ecklie with fear. "Wh-what do you mean?"

_"He was shot on his way home. He's in critical condition. Do you want to meet us at the __Desert Springs__?"_

Morgan's heart was stopping and her blood was running in her ears. _Greg was shot. Greg was shot. The man she really liked was shot._ She vaguely even felt her dad's hand on her shoulder as she began trembling. "Is he...is he okay?"

_"__I'm not sure. Brass didn't say m__uch."_

"Oh god...a-alright, I'll be there soon." She hung up, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"M, what's wrong?"

"Greg got shot...we have to...we have to go to the hospital...now!"

"Alright, alright. Come on, my car is right over here."

Morgan nodded shakily while her dad led her to the car and he sped off towards Desert Springs. She couldn't shake the feeling that Russell hadn't told her everything. Maybe, because he knew it'd be too much for her. Maybe because Greg was dying or worse...no, that couldn't happen. Greg was strong and she knew he'd fight. _You better not leave me, Greg. Please don't leave me._

In the meantime, a few miles away from the hospital was the ambulance where Nick was tightly holding onto Greg's cold hand and trying to hold it in for the kid. Greg, thankfully, hadn't crashed and they were so close to the hospital. They were gonna make it.

"We're almost there, man; almost there. Just hang on a little longer and then everything will be okay. I promise, buddy. And I promise, if you hold up your end of the deal, I will too. You can't leave me man or...or I don't know what I'll do." He stroked the kid's knuckles with his thumb, praying that everything _will_ be okay. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of blonde hair from Greg's forehead., trying not to notice the disgusting tube sticking out from his slack mouth.

"This is so fucking messed up, kiddo. This shouldn't have happened to you; you never deserved it, I did. I was being the jerk not you." All of sudden, he felt Greg's hand twitch in his and Nick's heart jumped into his throat.

"Greggo? Greg, can you hear me?"

The paramedic looked up at the monitor worriedly. "BP is rising, so is his temperature."

"Greg? I mean it, bud, don't quit on me now."

And then, just as the vehicle screeched to a stop in front of the hospital doors, Greg's body started shuddering violently, his face contorted in a mix of pain and fear.

"He's seizing!"

Before Nick could comprehend what was going on, he was shoved against the ambulance walls while Greg was wheeled outside and through the double doors. He tried to follow the gurney, but as soon as the reached the other section of the hospital, he was stopped, forced to sit in the waiting room. Sniffing and collapsing into the nearest chair, he rested his head in his hands and started to cry. He prayed his little brother would be okay; he couldn't imagine a life without the goofy kid. But hadn't he already tried to do that once?

**Six Hours Later**

Nick paced and paced and paced. The doctor still had yet to come out from the double doors and with each passing second, the dread in his stomach was starting to grow. 'What if' questions kept popping up in his head, fearing that he might never see Greg alive again. The team had shown up twenty minutes after he arrived; Morgan looked like she'd been crying- though she would never admit to it. Her head rested against Ecklie's shoulder while she stared off into space. Sara and Finn sat next to each other, both worried about the youngest and Russell kept going up to the nurse's station, checking in to see what Greg's status was. Surgery. Surgery. Surgery. That was her only answer and Nick was getting tired of it. Just when he was about to punch the wall, a doctor, looking to be in her forties came through the double doors, holding a clipboard in her hands.

"Family of Mr. Gregory Sanders?"

Nick jumped at the voice, but composed himself and briskly walked over. "That's me; is he okay?" He looked at her name tag. "Dr. Matthews, is he okay?"

"Who are you?"

"Nick Stokes; I-I think I'm listed as his next of kin."

She looked down and then raised her eyebrows. "Indeed you are. Why don't you follow me to my office and we'll talk."

"Wait...is he," he swallowed thickly. "Is he..." he couldn't say it.

Dr. Matthews smiled sadly. "No, he's not dead."

Relief washed over him like a wave. "Thank god."

"Now, why don't you just follow me."

"What about them?" He gestured towards the team...and Morgan; he knew she needed to hear this.

"You can tell them when you come back; I need you to look over and sign some papers anyways."

The Texan looked at the doctor and then back at the group nervously; he didn't know if he could hear this alone.

"Go Nick, it'll be alright," Russell said. "We'll be waiting right here."

Nick nodded and followed the short woman past the doors and down the hall to her office. While she went behind her desk, he slowly lowered himself into the chair...which was much more comfortable than the ones out in the waiting room. Probably because everyone who went in here got bad news and they just _had_ to be comfortable while hearing it.

"Is Greg okay?"

Dr. Matthews gave him a sympathetic smile. "Greg is in a very dangerous place right now, Nick. I'm surprised that he lasted this long."

"W-What-what do you mean?"

"The bullet that hit him ruptured his small intestine, his stomach and then the shock wave of the blunt force fractured his spleen and liver. There was a lot of internal bleeding and by the time we got him onto the table, nearly three quarters of his body's blood had drained. In that case, a lot of his organs started to shut down...like his heart. And besides the time where he crashed in the ambulance, we managed to revive him for five minutes before we lost him again. Like I said, he's alive, but extremely critical. He's could possibly develop peritonitis within the next twelve hours, but we are pumping his body with a cocktail of antibiotics to see if we can stop it from reaching a worse state or happening at all. Also, when Greg arrived, he was already in septic and hypovolemic shock; but like I said, I'm hoping the antibiotics will take care of that. It was a very close call, but within a few weeks, I believe he'll recover."

Nick sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. It had been a close call; Greg and his scares. That kid was gonna give him a heart attack.

The door suddenly swung open. "Dr. Matthews, we have a problem with your patient- Greg Sanders."

Nick sat up straight in the chair, his fear flooding back into him. He turned to the nurse behind him, his chest heaving.

"What's wrong; what happened?" Dr. Matthews stood up.

"He's unresponsive; there's no activity in his brainwaves."

Nick face drained of color. "He's in a coma?" _What the hell Greg._

~+CSI+~

The Texan walked down the hallway slowly in a numb state. Greg was in a coma. A fucking coma! Why did things have to get worse for the kid; why did the world have to hit the kid so hard? What did he ever do? He turned the corner, feeling extremely sick; he didn't want to tell the guys the bad news...because it was really bad.

"Nick?" He saw blonde in his vision. Blinking, he realized he was back in the waiting room. _When had that happened?_ "Nick, are you okay?"

Morgan was beyond terrified when she saw Nick was sluggishly walking into the room, face as white as a ghost and looking like he was gonna be sick. It meant bad news...just how bad though? "Nick, what happened?"

He looked her in the eyes sadly, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"N-Nick...tell me, please." This couldn't be happening. Veggie state. Will never wake up. Dead. So many different scenarios.

The older man looked at Morgan for a little longer before glancing up at Russell and the rest of the team. "As of six minutes ago he...he went into a coma." With that, he gave Morgan a sad grimace before sighing heavily. "I need some air."

"Wait...Nick!" Morgan began, wanting- _needing_- to hear more.

"Let him go," Russell said, holding onto her arm as she started to run after him. "He's already been through a lot."

Morgan guessed he was right...the man still had blood all over his hands and clothes and he didn't even seem to notice. "Well, what about Greg? Can we see him or not?"

"Actually yes, you can," a voice said. They all turned around to face Greg's doctor.

"Really?" Sara said.

"Yes, Mr. Stokes allowed you all to visit; however, _I'm_ only allowing one at at a time. Are you ready?"

Morgan nodded, glancing back at her dad before they all headed for Greg's room. And none of them were prepared for the sight they were exposed to.

The young CSI gasped. "Oh no, Greg."

Russell placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "He'll be okay, he's a tough kid; why don't you go sit with him first."

She nodded and disappeared into the dark room. Russell sighed and decided it'd be best to talk to Nick...because he knew the man was _not_ okay. He told the others where he was going and then began to search the halls for the Texan. Finally, he went to look outside and sure enough, Nick was sitting on a bench under a shady tree, staring out into oblivion.

"Nick?" He said, cautiously approaching the quiet Texan.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. "I did this, Russell. If I had never "quit" none of this would've happened."

"And how do you propose that?" The white haired man said, sitting next to his colleague.

Nick snorted. "I don't know I...I just know it's my fault somehow. Me and Greg were supposed to get drinks...way before this messed up case, you know, to hang out like we used to. Everything just got in the way and we haven't really been "brothers" these past couple years...and I miss that. But then this whole thing with Kimball and McKeen and Winnick...just everything about this case tore me down and I just couldn't take it anymore."

"And you quit."

"Not formally, but yeah. If I had just stuck to the plan; if I had just forgotten about this whole case. Me and Greggo would be enjoying a beer right now instead of him barely clinging onto life in a hospital bed. And even if this still ended up happening, I wouldn't have minded it if it had been me. The kid doesn't deserve this crap, so why shouldn't I deserve it?"

"No one deserved it but the guy who shot Greg. We're gonna get the bastard, Nick, don't doubt that for one second."

The Texan pursed his lips, keeping his gaze on the ground. "I know...just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Let me beat the shit out of him when we do find him." Because no one hurts my little brother and gets away with it.

Russell smirked and looked at the passing cars, feeling the wind on his face. "I can't guarantee, because I know if you 'beat the shit out of him' the guy will be dead."

Nick chuckled humorlessly. "You got that right."

"But I guess I can let a few punches go unnoticed."

"It's a deal then."

"Good; now what do you say we go and sit with the kid, huh?"

Nick smiled weakly, still a bit nervous on seeing what Greg actually looked like right now. "Okay, lets go."

**Back in the Hospital**

Morgan inhaled sharply. Never would she have thought Greg to look like this; so...so small and fragile. He was always so happy and she was the strongest guy she ever knew. The blonde slowly made her way over to the chair next to the bed and sat down quietly, afraid that one noise would break the man in front of her. She took his cold hand and swallowed thickly while looking over her friend's condition. His normally spiked up hair was flat with sweat from his 102° fever and his gray, clammy face was exactly the same- glistening with the perspiration. His eyes seemed to be sunken in due to the dark circles underneath them. His breathing was scratchy and wet and to make things worse, his chapped lips were tinted with blue; he wasn't getting the oxygen he needed. Morgan wondered if the nasal cannula would even be enough to aid Greg's breathing. She moved her gaze farther down to the man's bare chest and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had never seen Greg without his shirt on before and always assumed that he was scrawny and not muscular...but she was wrong. His skin was tanned and his chest was actually _very_ muscular. _Damn, why did he have to be so cute _and _hot? _She took a deep breath to calm herself down while she looked at the thick white gauze hugging Greg's midriff...where the bullet hole was. And if she got a closer look, she was able to see a small red spot blossoming out from where leftover blood had seeped through. All all, the guy looked like crap and there was no reason at all that this should've happened. Greg should be at home eating dinner and watching TV or going out for drinks with Nick...not lying in the hospital looking like death warmed over. Biting her bottom lip, Morgan ran her hand through Greg's hair, hopefully, comforting him.

"Please get better, Greg." She looked up, making sure she was still alone before leaning forward and softly kissing him on the lips. Since the day she met him she had always wanted to do that...under different circumstances, though. "I-I love...I love you Greg," she whispered. And as if he heard her voice, a moan escaped past his lips and his head very slightly rolled to face her.

"Greg?" She moved to the edge of the chair, her heart fluttering in excitement. "Greg, can you hear me?" Could the doctor have been wrong? Not everyone is perfect. Maybe Greg wasn't in a coma. She looked up at the brainwaves and saw that there had been a little spike. Morgan smiled, looking back at the man and squeezing his hand gently. "I'm right here, Greg, just take your time. You're not alone anymore." Suddenly there was a knock on the door and she glanced up to see Nick carefully opening it and sticking his head into the room.

"Hey," she smiled tiredly as the Texan stepped inside. "How are you?"

Nick shrugged. "How is he?"

Morgan sighed, holding Greg's hand in both of hers while looking down at his peaceful face. "I think he heard me...he moved his head and there was a spike in his brainwaves. Call me crazy, but I don't think he's in a coma anymore."

Nick grinned. "Really?" That was quick; but then again, Greggo was always full of surprises. "Thank god."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Morgan sighed inwardly, figuring it was only fair to give the older man time with Greg. After all, if things worked out, she and Greg could be together for a long time. "I'm gonna go get some coffee," she said, standing up and stretching. "You want any?"

Nick shook his head, walking over and sitting in another chair next to Greg. "No, I'm good."

Morgan smiled and left quietly. Nick watched as the blonde disappeared before turning to his unconscious little brother.

"Hey man. God, you really fucking scared me; I thought for sure I was gonna...anyways, I'm really glad you're okay." He entwined his fingers with Greg's and squeezed the kid's hand tightly. "If you do anything like that to me again, someone's gonna get their ass kicked." Silence. "We're gonna find the bastard who did this to you; I swear on my life, G. You just focus on getting better okay? I'm gonna be with you the entire way." Nick watched Greg's chest rise and fall calmly and prayed that it'd never stop moving. Greg was way to young to be like this; Greg was still the youngest of the team- well excluding Morgan. He was the youngest of the _original_ team and he would never stop being the 'baby' no matter how much he hated it. Nick would never stop teasing him or setting him up with girls or messing up his hair and watching him get pissed about it. Greg was his little brother and he would never stop being that.

"I love you, man. And I'm sorry for everything. When you get better, I'm taking you out for drinks. We need to start hanging out like we used to, kid and I promise that _will _happen more often." The heaviness on his chest lifted and exhaustion swept over him like a blanket. With his hand still clutching Greg's, Nick closed his eyes, leaned back in the chair and fell into a deep sleep, hoping that when he did wake up, Greg big brown eyes would be the first thing he saw. He really hoped.

~+CSI+~

**24 Hours Later**

For the third time that day Nick blinked his eyes open sluggishly, but this time it was when he felt someone touch his shoulder. At first, he thought it was Greg, but then realized that would never happen; how the hell would the kid reach all the way up there? _Stop being so stupid, Nick. _After rubbing his eyes to focus his blurry vision, Nick looked up and saw that he was staring at...Catherine?

"Cath? What are...what are you doing here?"

"What do you think? Came to see my boys," she smiled sadly. "Russell called me and told me what happened. I came as soon as I could." The ex-CSI walked over to Greg's bedside and stroked his head. "How's he doing?" She hated to see one of her own family- because that's what they are and what they always will be- hurt. Especially Greg; too many times to count, he'd been in this situation...and she didn't like it.

Nick wiped a hand down his face. "Better; Morgan said he sorta moved earlier, so at least we know he's not totally oblivious to what's going on."

The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "How are you doing, Nicky? I heard that you quit...and then this...are you okay?" Catherine dragged a chair next to the Texan staring at him intently. She knew that all of this would get to him sooner or later; people may think that he was tough and someone who would never cry, but he does and he has. Only few people have seen him shed tears and Catherine knew that when the guy he considered a little brother got hurt, things would get ugly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He looked away from her, staring at Greg's motionless face. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't fine. Greg _died_ in his arms, he had literally _lost_ his little brother for too long. And even though they got the kid back, it would never erase the image of Greg's lifeless body, bleeding out on the ground. It made him sick...and as much as he tried to hold in the tears, he couldn't. Catherine seemed to notice because he felt her arms bring him to her shoulder; he could smell the familiar scent that he had been so used to for the past twelve years. In five seconds, his body began trembling with sobs, the tears flowing onto his face and soaking Catherine's shirt.

"I lost it Cath, I really lost it. And now Greg's hurt. God, what have I done?"

"It'll be okay; everything will be okay. None of this was your fault, I promise you that." She rubbed soothing circles on his back while whispered comforting words into his ear. "Everything will be okay again." Over the man's shoulder, she looked at Greg who seemed to be unaware of what was happening. _Please get better, Greg. I hate seeing you like this. _They stayed that way for the next ten minutes before Nick pulled away, wiping his face.

"You're gonna be okay, Nicky; both of you are gonna be okay."

"I hope so." And then he looked at Greg again. "I just wish he would wake up. It's weird when he's not talking."

Catherine chuckled. "He'll wake up soon; you know how he is."

Nick smirked and then yawned. "Yeah, you're right." He was exhausted and that coffee Morgan offered earlier would be really nice right now...but he didn't want to leave Greg alone when he woke up. Biting his lip, he argued with himself on what he wanted to do.

"Go, Nick; you look like a corpse and it's only been a day. I'll stay with him."

Nick smiled; the woman could always read his mind. "Thanks. Call me if anything happens."

"I will. Now go."

Nick hoisted himself up from the chair and gave one last look at his friend. "Don't wake up without me, kiddo." After brushing a sweaty blonde strand back, Nick tiredly left the room. Catherine sighed and moved closer to the younger CSI.

"You're killing him, Greg. You need to wake up; and not just for him, but for all of us. We need to know that you're really okay." She rested her hand on his arm before continuously stroking it, hoping that it'd get some sort of reaction. "I know you don't want to face the outside world, but you're not alone. We're all gonna be here when you wake up." And just as she was about to relax, she swore she saw Greg's eyelids flicker.

"Greg, sweetie? Can you hear me?" For at least three more minutes, nothing happened and Catherine began to assume it was just her imagination...until she heard a groan. Gasping slightly, she leaned forward and grabbed his hand. "Come on, Greg, open those big brown eyes for me."

His dry lips barely parted. "C-Catherine? T-That...you?" His eyes opened to slits, glancing at his surroundings sluggishly. The blood loss really did a number on him.

"Yeah it is, Greg."

He looked at her with his fevered eyes for a moment before speaking again in a slurred voice. She could tell he was barely holding onto consciousness and that the drugs were dragging him back to sleep. "C-Can't...be. You left...gone."

"Greg I'm-"

"Nick left, too. Everyone s'leaving me...don't know why...what'd I do wrong?" He rolled his head to face away from the woman.

"Sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. And no one's leaving you; we're all right here."

Greg sniffed, closing his eyes and before she could say anything else, Greg was out like a light.

Catherine sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her hair. "Crap."

At the same time, Nick had just gotten his coffee and slid into booth with ease. He hadn't felt this exhausted when he was with Greg, but now he felt like collapsing. Taking a sip of the liquid, he sighed in content and sunk into the comfortable seat.

"Mind if I sit here?" A familiar voice said.

Nick looked up and smiled when he saw Morgan. "Not at all."

She exhaled heavily as she sat opposite of the Texan. "How's Greg?"

"Still the same; maybe Catherine will get better luck waking him up."

Morgan chuckled weakly before they both fell silent. And then...

"Can I tell you something, Nick? Brother to sister?"

Nick frowned but nodded.

"We almost lost Greg...like now that I think about it, if he had never called you we...we wouldn't-"

Nick looked down at his cup, swallowing thickly. He _had_ thought about how if he had never gotten that call from Greg...that they would be in a very different place right now. He would be going non-stop to _kill_ the guy who did it, Doc Robbins and David would be working on a very difficult autopsy, Morgan would've lost the one she loved and the CSI family would've lost yet another one. Warrick. Sara- even though she came back. Grissom. Catherine. Nick didn't think he could handle anymore losses.

"...want you to know that, I'm glad you were there when you were."

Nick looked back up and smiled wearily. "Me too."

"Can I say something else? I think...no, I _know_ that this whole incident brought something to light. I love Greg, Nick. I really love him."

Nick smirked. "I know that."

Morgan frowned. "You do?"

"It's obvious," he laughed. "And he's had a crush on you ever since you met. So my advice, stop beating around the bush and give him a chance."

Morgan blushed with an awkward smile. "I will."

"Good."

"Nick." A gruff voice spoke from behind. The Texan turned around and saw Brass heading towards them...and the look on his face meant bad news.

"What? What is it?"

"We found the guy; the people back at the lab found prints and traced them back to an Earl Whitson. He's an ex-cop; turns out he grew up with McKeen."

Nick jumped up from the booth, anger surging through him. "Where is he? I wanna talk to the son of a bitch." _More __disfigure his face._

All of a sudden, there was a commotion coming from the entrance and they saw someone being pushed on a gurney, blood staining his shoulder."

"I shot him," Brass said bluntly. "He was about to kill himself...and I would've let him, but we need answers."

Nick breathed heavily, wanting to follow the gurney and beat the hell out of Whitson even if he was already injured. That would make the pleasure of beating him up so much better.

"I know you want to take action, Nick, but I can't let you. Not yet."

Trying to calm himself down, the Texan nodded. "Fine. I'm gonna go back with-"

"Nick!"

He turned to see Catherine running towards him...and she had a smile on her face. Which made him smile, too. _She had to have good news right? Something good happened._

"It's Greg...he's awake."

~+CSI+~

Nick stared at Greg through the class as Dr. Matthews did some routine tests. He was beyond happy right now; Greg was awake, Greg was okay. And he swore to himself that he would never let anything like this every happen again...to anyone he loved. He bit his lip impatiently, really wanting to go in and talk to his little brother and not have it be a one-sided conversation. Five minutes later, Dr. Matthews smiled at Greg before heading for the door. They all stood back and waited anxiously for results.

"How is he?" Nick asked.

"He's doing better than I anticipated and a lot faster too. His brainwaves are normal, heart rate is normal, everything is normal. Within a couple days and after some therapy, Greg will be good as new."

Everyone sighed in relief. "Can we see-" Sara began.

"Actually, I need to see him first," Brass cut in. "I think it'd be better to get a statement now if the event is still fresh in his mind."

"What if he doesn't remember?" Nick asked. "And he just woke up, don't you think he should be relaxing and not stressing."

"I'm sorry, Nicky, but we need more than just a print and a suspect, you know that."

"Jim!"

"Nick, he's right," Catherine said quietly.

"It'll only be a few minutes, I promise."

"Whatever," Nick grumbled and watched at the officer walked inside.

Greg looked up tiredly and gave the man a weak smile. He was barely lucid, but lucid enough to recognize faces and talk a little.

"Hey kid. How ya' doin'?"

"Been better," Greg whispered in a hoarse voice. "You've come to get my statement, right?"

"I can't just be checking up on a friend?" He smirked.

"Well, you _do _have a notepad in your hand...that tells me something."

Jim raised his hand in surrender. "You caught me...you sure you're up for it? Nick will have my ass if it starts to stress you out."

"Nick's a big softie, he won't do anything to you," Greg laughed, getting more comfortable on the pillows.

"I'm not so sure about that."

Greg grinned. Nick; always so protective. "Yeah...I'm ready."

As Jim sat down, he flipped his notebook and pulled out a pen while Greg weakly sat up.

"So, start from the beginning; what were you doing before you got shot?"

Greg grimaced, the pain in his abdomen flaring at any slight movement. "Umm, I drove home from the lab...don't remember what time I got home, though."

"That's alright, we can have Sara or Nick verify that."

"Wait...how would Nick know?"

"He's the one who saved you."

"I thought..." Greg looked at his hands. "Never mind. Can we finish?"  
"Yeah. So what happened once you got near your place?"

"Well, I couldn't find a nearby parking spot so I had to go find one further back. Once I did, I had about half a mile walk to my place. It turned the corner and...some guy in a black hoodie shouted my name and before I knew it, I was on the ground...bleeding."

"Did he say anything else to you?"

"He said something about it being a message and something about McKeen...I don't really remember."

"Okay and do you know what he looked like?"

Greg thought hard for a moment, but when he came up blank, he was disappointed in himself. "No...no, I'm really sorry; I don't know why I can't remember. Why can't I remember?" His heart rate started to go up and Brass placed a hand on the kid's shoulder.

"Easy, Greg, it's perfectly understandable. You've been through a lot." He stood up, closing the pad. "I believe I've got enough to fill in the blanks, anyways; you did good, kid."

Greg pursed his lips but nodded.

And as Brass turned to leave, he smiled at the CSI. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks."

"Just focus on getting better."

The CSI nodded tiredly and closed his eyes. He hated being this exhausted, but he knew that if he wasn't on "the drugs" he'd be in a world of pain. And he wanted to see Nick...he didn't even remember the guy being there at all. The last time he saw the Texan was when he was walking out the door. His eyes began drooping as the door opened again and before he could see who it was, he was out cold once again.

Nick's smile disappeared when he saw Greg's eyes close the minute he entered the room. It made him wonder if the kid was mad at him or if there was something else going. Pursing his lips and sighing inwardly, he quietly walked over to the familiar bedside chair and sat down. Then again, he wouldn't blame the kid if he was exhausted; he had every right to be.

"I'm glad you're okay, man." He placed his hand over Greg's. "I'm _really _glad; Brass got the guy who did this, so you can relax and I'll be sitting right here when you wake up." _I just wish that'd be now. _He didn't know how much longer he could wait to hear his little brother's voice again. Sighing heavily, Nick knew that it might be awhile before Greg spoke; maybe he should just watch T.V to pass the time. He grabbed the remote from the nightstand and turned on the television, flicking through the channels until he landed on a football game. Nick smirked when he noticed they were the two good teams- Greg's favorite and his own. Falcons v. Vikings. Well, only _one _of the teams were good.

"Hey look, G, the team that sucks ass. The _Falcons,_" Nick chuckled though there was still no response from his little brother. "Why don't you wake up and convince me that they're better than the Vikings, huh?" He returned his gaze back to the screen and relaxed in the chair.

It might've been an hour or two that had passed; Greg's fever had finally broke and the doctor said he was really starting to make a recovery. When he heard a weak voice come from the bed, his heart leaped into his throat.

"The Falcons b-better be winning."

Nick jerked from his chair and saw Greg's eyes were open- barely, but it was good enough for him. He smiled brightly, grasping the kid's hand to let him know that he wasn't alone.

"Greg! Hey buddy; how're you feeling?"

"Tired...these drugs are really bringing me down...ask the doctor...take me off?"

"You want them to stop giving you morphine?"

"I c-can manage...I'm tired of being tired."

The Texan laughed. "Alright, I'll go look for her." As soon as he started to leave, he felt a weak grip on his wrist. He looked back to see Greg's arm outstretched and a look of sadness and maybe fear on his face.

"D-Don't...don't leave. Not yet."

The older CSI smiled sadly before sitting back down. "Okay, man. I'm never leaving again...and I just want to apologize for what happened earlier. I never should've let the case get to me that bad. I never should've quit."

Greg rolled his head on the pillow in a sort of shaking matter. "S'okay...you had reasons. Thought of quitting myself...c-couple times."

Nick frowned. _How come he never said anything?_ "What? When?"

"Well...after the beating...I was so scared to come back...that it'd happen again. But then Warrick told me that you punched someone and I realized that I had you...I had the team to protect me."

"Damn straight kid."

"And then that time a-after Morgan got kidnapped in the helicopter. I lost it...I really lost it and I didn't think I'd be able to handle myself...keep my emotions under when I was around her or even if something bad was happening to her. I know...I know being with her will never happen and it kinda hurts. I love her so much it hurts."

Nick's heart broke for the man, but remembered what Morgan had confessed to him in the cafeteria. "Dude, she loves you too."

Greg frowned. "What are you talking about?" His heart was fluttering in excitement, but he had to keep it down or else Nick would see. "How do you know?"

"She told me man; it just took a while for her to realize it."

Greg remained in shock. Morgan loved _him_? She had feelings for _him_? He couldn't believe it and he couldn't keep the smile from forming on his face...or maybe it was the drugs again.

Nick pat him on the shoulder. "You've got a lady, man and I always thought I'd beat you to the punch."

Greg snorted. "In your dreams; I'm _way_ better looking than you, not to mention that I've gotten more dates in two months than you could get in a year."

"Well, someone's a little cocky," Nick laughed and then they both fell silent. "I'm really glad you're okay, man. Don't you ever scare me like that again."

"I won't...I promise. But you have to keep your promise," Greg said quietly, closing his eyes.

"What's that?"

"To never leave again. Brothers don't leave brothers."

"I promise, Greg. I told you if you hold up on your end of the deal, I'd do the same. And you did, man; you fought and I'm so proud of you. Besides, I didn't officially quit; I didn't even give my resignation. But I'm glad I didn't."

"Me too," Greg yawned.

"Why don't you rest and I'll go see if I can the doc to get you off those meds."

His only response was silence and Nick realized Greg had already passed out. Rolling his eyes, Nick fixed the sheets before getting up and leaving the room to find Dr. Matthews. Upon wandering, he passed the ER and saw someone that made his blood boil. Whitson. The guy looked like shit; his face pale, eyes sunken and blood caking the side of his neck and his entire shoulder. A bandage was wrapped around the wound but he looked like he was in a shit-load of pain. _Good._ And best of all, he was handcuffed to the bed and...alone. Glancing around him to see if the coast was clear, he went over and shut the curtains. The noise it made when it closed made Whitson snap his eyes open in fear.

"Who the h-hell are y-you?"

He tried to control his anger, but he couldn't; just looking at the guy flashed him back to seeing Greg dead on the ground...blood everywhere. Clenching his jaw, he stormed over to the guy and grabbed his bloody shirt collar..

"That guy that you shot a day ago? That was my brother!" _It was true. _Without thinking, he slammed his fist into the man's face before clamping it over Whitson's mouth to muffle the yelp. When he took it off, all the bastard did was give Nick a smug smile.

"So...he's dead, huh?"

This only made the Texan angrier and before he knew what he was doing, he could feel his fist repeatedly hitting flesh. Not once did the guy make a sound, because Nick wouldn't give him a chance to. Each punch came quicker and quicker until Nick felt he was done; stepping back, Whitson's was a bloody, swollen mess. Luckily the guy wasn't on a monitor or someone would have shown up earlier to stop him.

"Oh and by the way...you suck at your job. He's not dead." However, he was glad Whitson sucked at his job. His chest heaving and knuckles pulsing, Nick quickly slipped out and headed back to Greg's room; he'd just clean up in there. He was pissed...maybe even beyond pissed. But he had to calm down...for Greg's sake. Once he reached the doorway, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped in. The kid was just like he left him, however, he still needed to get Dr. Matthew to take the guy off drugs. He decided it'd be better to just press the call button and when he did, a nurse showed up at the entrance.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Nick smiled. "He just didn't want the morphine anymore; said it was making him tired."

The blonde smiled back at him and came in, standing next to the bed. Within seconds, one of the I. V's were taken out, the spot sterilized and as quick as she came, the nurse left the room. Once he was sure Greg was still sleeping, he headed into the small bathroom and rinsed the blood off his knuckles. They hurt like a bitch, but the feeling of getting even with the bastard who almost killed his little brother made it a whole lot better. Suddenly, with his bionic big brother hearing, he heard a weak groan from the other room. Quickly drying his hands, he tossed the paper towel and went back to Greg with a smile on his face. But before he could step out, he heard a small, feminine voice speak. _Morgan; when had she gotten in here?_

"Hey Greg."

Smiling, he decided to give them space...he guessed he could give them some privacy for a while. Thankfully, he managed to sneak out without the two youngest knowing. _Those two love-birds._

Greg's eyes blinked to focus on the person in front of him...but he was really focusing on the big and beautiful blue eyes. He felt a soothing hand running through his hair and he moaned in content.

"Hmm, Morgan."

"How're you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here," he grinned.

Morgan laughed. "Dude, that is so cheesy."

Greg shrugged, slowly sitting up against the pillows. "I'm a cheesy guy."

"No you're not," Morgan said, not noticing that she had grabbed Greg's hand. "Greg, umm, I want to tell you something. I've been meaning to tell you it for awhile, I just...I guess I just wasn't ready."

Greg quickly interrupted, unable to wait any longer. "Morgan, I love you."

The woman looked taken a back and Greg was about to be really embarrassed if Nick had been joking and she didn't feel the same way. That was his worst fear.

"R-Really?" She whispered.

Greg looked down, picking at the sheets. "I-If you don't feel the same way, I totally understand. I mean, your dad probably would forbid it anyway and I'm sure you like someone else. Nick must've been-"

"Greg." Morgan put her hands on his cheeks, bringing his head up so they could look at each other. "Shut up." And without warning, she leaned forward and kissed him passionately on the lips. At first, he didn't know what to do, his eyes wide with shock. And then a warm feeling flowed throughout his body and he reached up to run his fingers in her hair and down her back. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours before they had to pull away for a breath. They touched foreheads with a smile.

"I love you too Greg."

"God, I've been waiting forever to hear you say that," Greg grinned.

"I should've said it a long time ago."

Twenty minutes later, Nick figured that Morgan and Greg were alone long enough and headed back. When he reached the all too familiar room, a huge grin broke out on his face. Greg had moved over to one side of the bed to make room for Morgan who had kicked off her shoes and was now resting, curled against Greg's body, her head laying on his bobbing chest. Greg's arm was loosely wrapped around the small woman's waist and his face was buried in her hair.

"It's about time." When he turned around to leave, he noticed Brass and Russell standing a few feet away, knowing looks on their faces. It was probably about Whitson. Walking up, he tried to look innocent.

"Whitson's nurse left for ten minutes," Brass said. "And when she got back, it looked like his face was hit by a sledgehammer."

Nick hid his hands in his pocket. Though he wasn't ashamed for what he did; it'd be worth it if he got in trouble.

"Do you know anything about that?" Russell asked.

The Texan shook his head. "No, I've been with Greg the entire time."

The two older man shared a look before Brass disappeared, leaving Nick and Russell alone. The older CSI raised his eyebrows suspiciously.

"You said you'd let a few punches go unnoticed."

"That didn't look like a few punches, Nick."

"I guess I let my anger get the best of me; I'm sorry. Am I suspended?"

Russell smirked. "Like you said, I didn't notice."

Nick let out a sigh of relief. "Didn't notice what?"

The white-haired man rolled his eyes, clapping a hand on the younger CSI on the back. Things turned out to be alright. Greg's _almost-_killer was caught and looking like death he might add, McKeen was in jail, the team was together again and Morgan and Greg finally got together. It _was_ about time.

**Fin**

**I think this might be the longest installment I've ever update. Oh, and for those of you who watched "Karma to Burn" I know that Whitson was not the one shot in the arm- it was Kimball- but I wanted to change it around a bit. Anyways, I hope you liked it!**

**Next story: ****for Macberly!**


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